


Cracks in the Foundation

by MistressNoriko



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Drama & Romance, F/F, Flirting, Lesbians in Space, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 134,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressNoriko/pseuds/MistressNoriko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reapers hit earth and thrust Commander Jane Shepard back into the line of duty. The stress of being the galaxies only hope weighs heavily on her mind, causing her medical history to start catching up with her. The ever humorous Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor walks off the Normandy's elevator and into Shepard's life and everything begins to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Krogan Through a Stone Dam

**Author's Note:**

> **_Obligatory Disclaimer:_** I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They all belong to BIOWARE, who I religiously buy games from. Nor do I plan to profit in any way from making this story public, aside from receiving reviews from my lovely readers.
> 
> While playing the Mass Effect games, I couldn't help but notice that, even though female Shepard goes through hell and back, we never really see her emotional side. We get snippets of it in Mass Effect 3, but not enough I thought. This fanfic stems from the idea that fem/Shep is a hard working Marine, but has the emotional weight of the whole galaxy on her shoulders. Being a woman myself, I understand the façade of staying strong for the people around you, but you can't keep it up for forever. So—I took my love of Traynor's character (and her romance story line) and used this plot line to flush out what I think is running through Fem/Shep's head through the ME3 (and how she comes close to losing her sanity), while also revealing what is running through Traynor's head that convinces her to pursue The Commander Shepard.  
> The rating is "Mature" for things that will happen later down the line. I expect the first handful of chapters to be more a "Teen" rating, but the "Mature" is a forewarning.  
> As always, I hope you enjoy and I cannot wait to hear all of your thoughts. Thanks!

“Goddamit, it shouldn’t have gone down like that!” Shepard yelled, trying to force her biotics to stay in check. A blue aura pulsated from a dim wisp to a now brightly glowing field around her.  “Ashley’s in that hospital because I was too damned slow!”

Liara clenched her jaw. She’d been trying to talk Shepard down since the cab ride back to docking bay D24, where the Normandy now sat idling before leaving the Citadel. The elevator ride up to Shepard’s cabin had been the most tense, awkward, and uncomfortable span of silence that Liara had ever experienced with Shepard. She had made the mistake of asking ‘what was wrong.’ After ten or so minutes of heated talking, Liara abandoned trying to keep calm and not yell; it was hard to talk at a normal volume when Shepard started yelling as the conversation turned into an argument. Shepard was normally so calm and collected. The perfect gentlemen, as the human saying goes. But when she finally reached the end of her fuse, it was like watching a small nuclear implosion, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

“Shepard, you’re only one person. It is more so **_my_** fault than anyone else’s that Ashley’s in the hospital. She was trying to help **_me_** walk to the shuttle,” Liara said sternly. The volume of her voice was louder than normal, but she wasn’t screaming like Shepard was.

Shepard’s biotic field kept fluctuating. “I should have been able to protect you! How am I supposed to protect the whole goddamn galaxy if I can’t even keep my crew safe out of the gate!?”

Liara shook her head. “It was your first mission since being reinstated. You’re allo—”

“And I fucked it up, Liara! Ashley could have died! She could have died because I am out of practice!” Shepard balled her fists, biotic energy swirling in her hands as she yelled.

“Shepard, calm down!” Liara demanded, moving forward to put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder.

Shepard jerked away, releasing some of her biotic energy on Liara. Liara was jolted by the slight push from Shepard, and her barrier instinctively went up. When Shepard realized what happened, it was too late; Liara shook her head. “Don’t, for the goddess’ sake, take it out on me, Shepard. So you think you messed up. Fine. Learn from it. Don’t wallow in it. It isn’t becoming of you.” And with that Liara turned on her heel and hit the elevator button with her fist, a small biotic discharge of her own as she hit the button harder than was necessary. It opened immediately and she stepped out of Shepard’s line of sight.

As the elevator door shut, Shepard did what she could to try and calm down. _You failed,_ was all she kept thinking. _You failed big time. Ashley’s lucky to still have a heartbeat. Vega too…that stunt he pulled with the Kodiak could have killed all of us._ Shepard’s fist balled up again, energy pulsating through her palms. _And he wouldn’t have had to do it had I caught up to that fucking Cerberus mech in time._

Before she really knew what she was doing, she punched the wall on the ship, outside of her quarters. All the biotic energy that had been ebbing under her skin was now focused in her right hand. And she punched… and punched… and punched…

* * *

Samantha rounded the corner just as the elevator doors opened. _Perfect timing,_ she thought. She let out one last anxious breath. She had decided that it was time to officially introduce herself to her new Commanding Officer; she was the lead Comm. Specialist on the ship. She’d have to introduce herself sooner or later. _Sooner is always better than later, especially when later has a two in three chance of not coming._

She adjusted her grip on her datapad and quickened her steps towards the elevator. The Asari Doctor _(was she an actual doctor?_ Samantha thought) walked off of the elevator, looking rather cross. She noticed Samantha waiting to board. Samantha gave the Asari her best professional smile, “Everything alright, Doctor, er…” Samantha trailed off, unable to recall the Asari’s name.

“T’Soni,” the Asari said curtly. She looked at the datapad that Samantha was holding. “If you’re headed up to see Commander Shepard, I’d wait for a better moment. She’s rather… ‘on edge’ as they say.” Her eyes were dark, not really focusing on anything.

Samantha swallowed hard and glanced at the elevator doors. “Thanks, Dr. T’Soni. But we’re at war… will there really ever be a ‘better moment?’”

The Asari blinked, looked Samantha in the eyes and nodded. “You have a point. But I did warn you,” and she walked off towards the room on the port side of the mess hall.

And just like that, all of the anxiousness was back in Samantha’s throat. _Calm down,_ she chimed to herself, hitting the “1” button in the elevator. _You’re just meeting your commanding officer…not some Comm. Specialist eating Collector._ Shivers ran up her spine at that thought. The effects of the attack on Horizon hadn’t quite worn off yet. It had been about eight months since the infamous Commander Shepard had come and saved what was left of the colony.

She started to hear a pounding in her head. _Since when does your heart beat reside between your ears, Traynor?_ She blinked, narrowing her eyes just slightly. The pounding wasn’t coming from her…

The elevator stopped. _Maybe some of the wires in the elevator shaft fell loose during the evac from Earth_ , she thought. The elevator doors slid open, but the pounding sound persisted.

Samantha let out another breath, trying to calm her nerves again. _What is it about rank that makes you such a goddamn pussy?_ She shook her head, taking her first step out of the elevator, glancing up at the elevator’s ceiling as the pounding still persisted. _Shepard’s literally just another woman, albeit a heavily medaled marine, but still a woman. Women… you can handle women, Traynor._ She smirked to herself, thinking of several inappropriate related boob jokes. She finally looked down the hall with her second step out of the elevator, toward the Commanding Officer’s cabin doors. She stopped dead when she saw the woman she knew to be Commander Shepard, dressed in loose fitting cargo pants and a tight N7 tank top, throwing biotic punches at the hallway wall.

Samantha was stunned for a moment, taking in the scene that she had walked into. Commander Shepard, a woman just barely taller than herself with red hair, was punching the hallway wall over and over again with her right hand flared blue, with what Samantha assumed was biotic energy. She’d never actually seen biotics used in person before. The Commander had her left hand at shoulder level on the wall, and her body was only a few inches away. Her punches came from her midriff area, but she still threw them with her entire body. She was grunting, saying incoherent things, none of which Samantha completely understood. Each word was accompanied by another hit to the wall.

The wall was dented. _Bloody hell, that woman is a juggernaut_ , she thought to herself, her eyes still wide with a slight fear from seeing her Commander Officer denting the metal of the wall. With another hit, Samantha saw something red suddenly appear on the wall. _Oh my god, is that… blood?_ She took a cautious step forward. “Commander Shepard?”

The Commander didn’t seem to hear her. She hit the wall again, and Samantha saw more red appear on the wall. Samantha took a few quick steps to close the distant between them in the short hallway, “Commander Shepard, you’re bleeding! Stop!”

But she didn’t stop. The wall made an awful crunching sound with the next hit that the Commander placed, moving the metal inward about two inches. Samantha noticed all of the muscles in the Commander’s arms tense; every single muscle was engaged in that last hit. Even her neck muscles were tense, and her jaw was clenched so tightly that Samantha was surprised that the Commander hadn’t cracked a tooth. _Or maybe she had…_

Samantha watched a few more hits, feeling absolutely useless. But then her brain kicked in; _her punches are roughly two seconds apart… so I have a two second window to not get hit in the stomach…but if she does make contact with me, she’ll probably shatter my spine…_ Before Samantha really knew what she was doing, she charged forward, waiting for the commander to punch one last time before she squeezed her arm in front of the commander’s arms and tried to pull her away, “Commander! Stop!”

The blue that was emitting from the Commander’s hand now covered her whole body, but Samantha had moved her about a foot away from the wall, her hands firmly placed on either of her commanding officer’s arms. She had a momentary panic about physically touching and repositioning her Commanding Officer and how that was probably against regulations before she finally got the Commander to look her in the eyes.

The woman before her blinked, her bright green eyes hot with anger and some other emotion that Samantha couldn’t quite place; it shadowed of guilt, but Samantha didn’t know the Commander enough to read her emotions. The blue finally faded from around her and her expression softened, the anger seeping out of her eyes and turning into something that Samantha thought looked like worry.

The commander made a move to speak, but Samantha cut her off, thankful that she hadn’t gotten to feel what a biotic throw felt like. She took the commander’s right hand in her left and began inspecting it. The knuckles were completely raw. Blood had already started to drip down the fingers. Above the metacarpals looked as if it was already starting to bruise. “Shit, you need medical attention,” Samantha blurted out. “I’ll page Dr. T’Soni. She’s the doctor on the ship, ri—”

Her Commanding Officer shook her head, and gently pulled her hand back. “I’m fine, recruit.”

Samantha ignored the fact that she had been called “recruit,” and noticed that the look in Commander Shepard’s eyes said that she wasn’t fine. _Talk about the weight of the world on your shoulders…_ Samantha thought. _Who am I kidding… she has the weight of the entire galaxy riding her back like a vorcha hog-riding a varren._

“Let me at least run and grab you some medigel and an ice pack,” she said. Before really finishing the sentence or waiting for her Commanding Officer to dismiss her, Samantha moved towards the elevator, hitting the door button. “I’ll be two seconds. Don’t move!” and she went through the elevator door, hitting the number three a little too hard with her thumb.

* * *

 _You were too slow to help Horizon._ **Hit** . _You were too slow to stop the collectors from abducting your own crew._ **Hit** . _You were too slow to catch that Cerberus mech._ **Hit** . _You almost let Ashley die._ **Hit** . _You sent Kaiden to his death._ **Slam**.

The last hit engaged every ounce of muscle that Shepard had in her arm. She felt the wall give, and a wet sensation over her knuckles. But she hit the wall again. Remembering Kaiden’s death now seemed out of place, but it stabbed in Shepard’s stomach all the same. Kaiden had been a good marine, and had been a good friend. But she’d let him die, just like she let the rest of the Salarian squad die with him; like he wasn’t ever a part of her team at all. She hit the wall again. She felt like she was about to start crying, her eyes burned hot. _There’s no crying in war._ She hit the wall again.

“—ander! Stop!”

Shepard felt someone grab her arms and push back. She braced herself, flaring her biotics, ready to throw whoever it was. When she looked up, her eyes set into a woman she’d never seen before: She was just an inch or two shorter than herself, honeyed skin with raven black hair. Her brown eyes were large… larger than they should have been. They looked innocent, like the boy who disappeared back on Earth. . .

She dropped her field and relaxed the tension in her muscles. _Who the hell let such an innocent recruit onto my ship? Does the alliance not understand that I need the best? The Normandy is not a ship for Alliance initiation…_ As she opened her mouth to ask who the woman was, she was interrupted by the recruit’s hand taking her right hand and moving it up to examine it.

“Shit, you need medical attention,” the recruit suddenly said. “I’ll page Dr. T’Soni. She’s the doctor on the ship, ri—”

“I’m fine, recruit,” Shepard said, pulling her hand out of the recruit’s grasp. _If she thinks this is bad… she’ll be vomiting after every mission._ Shepard let her gaze un-focus, thinking about the horrors that have walked the very halls of the Normandy.

“Let me at least run and grab you some medigel and an ice pack,”the recruit said. Before she’d even finished her sentence, she was sprinting towards the elevator doors. She hit the elevator button, said a hurried, “I’ll be two seconds. Don’t move!” and she disappeared into the elevator. 

Shepard wished she could have simply locked the elevator door so no one would come back up, especially that recruit. She could ask EDI to do it, but she had a feeling the EDI wouldn’t oblige, considering Shepard’s state. EDI was probably responsible for sending up that recruit up in the first place. . .

Shepard flexed her right hand and let out a long exhale. Her knuckles began to sting, but she could tell that the cybernetics that Cerberus had installed were already in the process of healing her hand. A low, orange glow could be seen under the wet blood on her knuckles.

She ran her left hand through her hair, and shook her head. _What the hell is the matter with you?_ She asked herself. She started instinctively walking into her cabin. The doors slid open, recognizing Shepard’s ID. She hit a few buttons to keep the doors open, locking the door open for when the recruit came back. Ice **did** sound like a good idea.

She originally had wanted to go to the bathroom and wash off her hand, but found herself slowly walking to the low sofa along the starboard wall instead. She sat down on the edge of the seat and held her head in her hands. _Why, after failing so many people, does the universe still believe that I am the answer to all of their problems?_ Shepard asked herself. _I can’t even protect my own team. My own home-world…_

Shepard felt the heat return to her eyes. Before she could mentally prepare herself, tears started to roll down her cheeks. _Fuck. You’re weak, Jane._ She didn’t move to wipe the tears away. _Goddamned pathetic. You’re one of the highest ranking military officers in the galaxy, you’re a fucking Spectre… and you’re hiding in your cabin, crying._

Shepard exhaled slowly as she heard the whirl of the elevator doors open and close. The hurried footsteps of the recruit soon sounded in her cabin. “There you are,” came after a brief pause in the footstep pattern. “Thought you’d run off for a minute.”

Shepard didn’t look up. She just stayed still, holding her head in her hands, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Luckily, so far it had just been the well of tears overflowing, no shoulder shaking sobs. She ran her left hand along her face, trying to wipe away what she could. If she was lucky, it’d just look like sweat.

She felt the seat cushion next to her deflate as the recruit sat down. “Let me see that hand,” she said softly.

Shepard finally noticed that she had a British accent. She’d met some good soldiers in her time who hailed from England. _All probably dead…the Reapers hit London first._ She clenched her jaw, feeling the well of tears start to build in her eyes again. She let the recruit take her hand and she leaned forward, putting her left hand on her forehead while the elbow rested on her knee.

The recruit made quick work of Shepard’s knuckles. She cleaned them with an antiseptic wipe and slathered a little too much medigel onto them. She began to wrap Shepard’s hand when she spoke. “So, what’d the wall say to make you so upset,” she laughed, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Shepard should have laughed. She knew the poor recruit was probably terrified, walking in and seeing what she had seen. But she didn’t move; not even a twitch towards the edge of her mouth. She was still pondering London. _Even if the Alliance had heeded my warning six months ago…would it have made a difference? Or if the council had taken action almost three years ago when Saren, the heretic geth, and Sovereign attacked the Citadel? Would_ **that** _have made any difference? The reapers are so advanced… how do you fight a fleet of technologically superior dreadnaughts?_

While Shepard was lost in thought, the recruit finished wrapping her hand. Shepard felt that she was there as she was tentatively still holding onto Shepard’s hand. The recruit seemed to be waiting for a response at her attempt to humor the situation, but Shepard couldn’t find the words. They were all choked in the back of her throat, threatening to start pouring out of her eyes again. She started to take in deep breathes, attempting to quell her emotions. _The recruit has already seen me beat the shit out of that wall… she doesn’t need to see me fucking cry, too._

The recruit shifted, letting go of Shepard’s hand briefly. A shiver went up her spine when she felt the recruit’s hand come back to hers, this time equipped with an ice pack. The ice felt wonderful to her already swelling hand. But the thoughts still lingered in her mind… _how can I possibly save Earth? What the hell would happen had I died on that Collector base?_ Shepard could feel the tears hot in her eyes again.

The recruit’s free hand was tentatively placed on Shepard’s back, between the shoulder blades. It was a caring gesture, followed by a sheepish, “Commander Shepard, are you alright?”

Shepard’s shoulders finally started to shudder and the tears ran hot down her cheeks again. “No,” was all she remembered saying before she pulled her hand away from the recruit’s and covered her face with both hands.

 _There’s no hope. How am_ **I** _, a lowly human, supposed to solve_ **this**?! And her mind went, racing, letting all the doubts she’d felt in the last 72 sleepless hours take over every facet of her brain. She couldn’t keep track of all of the questions, the hypothetical what ifs. The faces of all her friends that had died in the last few years assaulted her closed eyes and a steady stream of tears poured through. The two shuttles that were vaporized as the Normandy pulled way…The haunting eyes of that boy she couldn’t save back on Earth…

_The universe is doomed. Everyone is expecting me to pull some heroic feat out from the stars and save the day… but here I am—hiding in my cabin. Crying. Crying like a bullied child._

No matter how disgusted she was with herself, Shepard couldn’t get herself to stop. Every effort she made only seemed to make her cry harder.

She felt arms close around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. Shepard, not completely knowing what was going on, wrapped her arms around the recruit’s waist after a few moments, letting herself collapse into the recruit’s neck. Wet cheeks made contact with the recruit’s neck. The recruit’s arms tightened around her shoulders, and Shepard heard her efforts at calming her down. But she couldn’t stop the tears. It was like someone had thrown a squadron of krogan through a stone dam, and nothing could stop the relentless flow of water.

The smell of honey and loose leaf chai tea started to waft into Shepard’s nostrils as the warmth of the recruit’s body began to radiate into her. The smell was soothing. She didn’t know how long she’d been here, crying into the recruit’s neck. But the sudden smell made her sobbing lessen into quiet crying. The recruit had been rubbing Shepard’s back, swaying her from side to side, still cooing sounds attempting to console her.

Slowly, the tears stopped; but Shepard’s eyes didn’t open. They were heavy. Impossibly heavy. She nestled her face into the recruit’s neck, and tightened her grip around her waist. The smell of honey and tea grew stronger.

Shepard let the heaviness in her eyes take over, and everything was finally quiet.


	2. Adequate Muscle Mass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response review that I received when I originally posted this on another site regarding the “angst” level of this fanfic: I’m sorry (not sorry) to say that, yes—that is the direction that the story is headed. Shepard, throughout all of ME3, is on the brink of losing her sanity and suffering from PTSD (in my opinion at least). I want to show that; I want to get inside of her head and unravel all those doubts that she carries with her. I want to experiment in what it’s like to lose yourself in your thoughts of self doubt, what ifs, and should haves. I know it’s kind of dark, and might be a little tedious at times, but that’s why I paired femshep with Traynor. A good anchor in humor balances out what is going through Shepard’s head and is a nice reprieve for the reader. If you’re looking for the all powerful, “here I come to save the day” Shepard who is hardnosed and emotionally impenetrable, then you’ve stumbled across the wrong story. I apologize if I made that unclear in my author’s note for chapter one—I was trying to set the record straight there. I’m sorry if the direction of this story turns a few of you off, but I’d rather be honest with you than string you along. 
> 
> So there you have it. For those of you who are still with me—please enjoy the following installment! I look forward to your comments, thoughts, and critiques!

Samantha started tapping her foot impatiently as soon as the elevator doors started to close. She’d stashed her datapad in her cargo pants pocket to free her hands. She still had half a mind to call Dr. T’Soni. _You stupid git,_ she thought to herself, putting a forceful hand to her forehead. _She’s not a_ **Doctor**. _She has a doctorate. Gah! The Commander probably thinks you’re a total squib._

The elevator doors opened and Samantha dashed out of the elevator, making a hard left and bee lining toward the medical bay. It was still a few hours before shift change, so no one was really out and about. One of the engineers gave her a quizzical eyebrow over his mug of coffee, but didn’t say anything to stop her.

The med bay doors opened with a _woosh_ and made Samantha’s hair fall out from behind her ears. She frantically tried to tuck the loose strands back as she started opening random drawers. _C’mon… c’mon c’mon c’mon,_ she repeated to herself silently. _I know we just unpacked everything, but why is everything so goddamned unorganized!?_ The short run from the elevator had made her throat tense, her asthma threatening to kick in. Samantha shook her head, trying to fight off the feeling as she continued to violently open drawers in her desperate search for supplies.

She finally opened a drawer that had a spare medigel pack in it. She then saw a simple first aid kit that was on the desk and dashed over to grab it. With a frantic look around the room, she noticed that there was a small refrigerator unit under the desk. She pulled out the first ice pack she could find, closed the door with a little too much effort, making the whole thing wobble. She steadied it with her foot before running back out of the med bay, clutching her findings to her chest.

No one had used the elevator since Samantha had made her way down from the Commander’s quarters. She hit the door button with her elbow, and did her best to hit the “1” when she stepped inside. She was successful and the doors slid closed without anyone joining her. _Why haven’t you gotten anyone to help, Traynor?_ She thought. _Did you even pass your fundamental medic course in basic?_

Samantha still couldn’t quite understand what was going on. She’d taken the elevator up to introduce herself to her new Commanding Officer, Commander Shepard; the War Hero of Elysium. The savior of the Citadel. Liberator of the Horizon colony. Destroyer of the Collector home-base. Shepard was almost an intangible, fictitious comic book super hero. Samantha had stepped out of the elevator, ready to give the long winded introduction she’d been rehearsing all day in an effort to stay aboard the Normandy— _but then that plan went to shit, didn’t it?_ Samantha had walked into the hall to see Commander Shepard obliterating a wall with her biotically charged fist.

The elevator beeped at the top level. Samantha took in a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator, hoping to not find the Commander destroying anything this time. _I still can’t believe I got between her and that wall,_ Samantha thought, glancing at the large dent that the Commander had made. _I’m lucky she has quick reflexes and registered me before she threw me like some Cerberus drone._

Samantha’s heart stopped for a moment when she realized that Commander Shepard wasn’t in the hallway. Samantha clutched the medical items to her chest a little tighter, trying to quell the panic that was setting in.

_Why do_ **I** _have to be the one taking care of the Commander? I don’t even know her… I’m sure Dr. T’Soni would at least know how to read her,_ Samantha thought, thinking back to the look in Shepard’s eyes after she’d stopped her from hitting the wall. _But then again—maybe she’d given up… she_ **did** _warn me about it being a bad time…_

Samantha shook her head. It didn’t matter. She was the one who had found the Commander in duress and now she needed to make sure that she had the medical attention that she needed.

The panic in Samantha’s chest dissipated when she saw the Commander’s cabin doors standing open. Samantha quickly walked through the threshold, but didn’t see Commander Shepard. She clenched her jaw, looking about the room. _She couldn’t have gone to the crew deck,_ she thought.

Right before she was about to turn around, she spotted the Commander’s flaming red hair over the top of the large desk. Samantha hadn’t realized just how big the Commander’s quarters were. She’d never had to come up to this level during the retrofits.

Samantha took the two steps down into the Commander’s living area. A huge, albeit empty, fish tank illuminated the dimly lit room. Commander Shepard was sitting on a couch on the starboard side of the cabin, head held in her hands, both elbows on corresponding knees. The woman looked absolutely exhausted.

“There you are,” Samantha said, trying her best to announce herself and not startle the Commander. “Thought you’d run off for a minute,” she continued with a smile.

The Commander simply moved her uninjured hand to run down her face, but didn’t say anything. Samantha saw the glisten of wet cheeks from the light coming from the fish tank on the opposite wall. _Shit… I’m no good at this…_

Samantha’s stomach was in knots. She didn’t know how to handle this. _One thing at a time, Traynor. Clean her bloody hand._ She nodded to herself in a self motivating fashion, ignoring the play on words she’d made in her head from her colloquial speech and the fact that Shepard **literally** had a bloody hand. She walked the space of the room, setting medical supplies on the low table in front of the couch and gently sat down next to the Commander, who still hadn’t moved or acknowledged Samantha’s presence.

Samantha let out a soft sigh and tentatively grabbed the Commander’s hand. “Let me see that hand,” she said softly. The Commander’s hand was easy enough to pry away from her face, almost limp in Samantha’s hand. The Commander shifted, putting her forehead in her left hand, shielding her face from Samantha’s view, elbow still leaning on her knee.

Samantha was beginning to wish she’d installed a medical program on her omni-tool. She brought the Commander’s hand up to her face. _She’s done quite the job of mangling this hand up,_ Samantha thought, shrugging off the odd orange glow as a reflection from the fish tank. _I’ll have to make her get it properly checked out tomorrow… she’ll be lucky if the metacarpals aren’t broken to shit._

Samantha leaned over to the table and tore into the first aid kit, pulling out an almost primitive sanitization wipe. She smirked to herself; _you’re in the twenty second century, Traynor and you grabbed the_ **one** _thing in the med bay that is stuck in the nineteenth century._ She worked quickly, trying to clean the hand. There was a lot of blood that had already started to dry on the Commander’s fingers. Samantha worked quickly, but made sure that she didn’t miss any spots.

The Commander still hadn’t said anything, or moved. Samantha began to apply some medigel to the wound when she noticed the Commander’s jaw clench. She still couldn’t see the entirety of her face; the Commander was still holding her head in her free hand. Samantha stared, admittedly, for the first time at her new Commander’s body. Right now, even though she couldn’t see her face, she could tell that she was beautiful. Fine scars that intermingled with faint freckles covered the finely toned muscles that encased the core of the exhausted woman before her. Even sitting in the slouched position, her stomach was flat under the tight N7 tank top.

She began to look up from the Commander’s gloriously toned stomach, to her— _shit!_ She said to herself, her attention snapping back to the Commander’s hand. She’d squeezed a little too hard and now there was medigel everywhere. Samantha busied herself with trying to wipe off what she could, but finally just reached for some gauze wrapping and started wrapping the hand, as gently as she could.

_I still can’t believe that she hasn’t said a_ **word** _since I came back,_ Samantha thought to herself. She finished the roll of gauze and then leaned over, one final time to the first aid kit, grabbing a long, elastic fabric wrap to wrap overtop the existing gauze. _Maybe I should say something… break the ice…_ “So, what’d the wall say to make you so upset?” _Oh god, are you barking mad?! Why on earth would you say that?!_

The Commander didn’t move. No smile. Not even a frown. No sign that she’d heard Samantha at all. Samantha let out a slow sigh as she finished wrapping the Commander’s hand for the second time. Samantha sat there, holding onto the Commander’s hand cupped between her own two. _Maybe I upset her more. God, I’m such an_ **idiot** _!_

Samantha glanced around the room, looking for something to save her from the deafening silence from the Commander. She looked at the table and saw the ice pack. She chewed on her lip. T _hat probably would have been better to put on_ **before** _I wrapped the hand twice._ She let go of the Commander’s hand, leaned forward and grabbed the ice pack from the table. _God, you can’t do anything right tonight, can you?_

She gently slid her left hand under the Commander’s hand and used her right to put the ice in place. A small shiver ran through the Commander’s body. _Well, at least she isn’t completely comatose._

Something else changed in the air about the Commander. Samantha narrowed her eyes just so and saw something drip onto the Commander’s pants. _She_ **is** _crying. Shit…_ She gently moved her left hand out from under the Commander’s and cautiously, lightly, placed it on the Commander’s shoulders. “Commander Shepard,” she started softly. “Are you alright?”

Suddenly, almost startling Samantha, the Commander’s shoulders began to shake. She shook her head left and right, muttered “No,” and then began to sob, pulling her hand away from Samantha to cover her own face.

Samantha sat there, blinking rapidly, trying to understand what was happening. _Why is it that I can analyze live data feeds almost as fast as they’re established, but when it comes to other people’s emotions I am one of those damned Elcore diplomats?!_ The Commander’s crying grew louder, her entire body moving with every inaudible noise that sounded from her mouth.

_Alright, Traynor, think… C’mon. C’mon c’mon c’mon. What would you want right now, if you were crying your eyes out?_ The Commander’s breath pattern changed; she seemed to try to be calming herself down, but it was making the crying worse. _What would your mother do?_ Before she really registered what she was doing, she scooted closer to the Commander and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her weeping body into her. She shifted in her seat, bringing up her left leg to rest on the cushion and turning her torso to be completely adjacent to the Commander’s. “Shh, it’s alright.” _No it isn’t… if your Commanding Officer—If Goddamn Commander Shepard—is this distraught, then it is most defiantly_ **not** _alright._

The Commander started muttering nonsensical words. Samantha thought she heard, “Reapers,” “only human,” “Earth,” “London,” and something about a “little boy,” amidst all of the crying sounds and shuttering inhales and exhales.

Samantha began to coo the Commander again. “Shh, it’s okay. I know… I know.” _No you don’t, Traynor. You have no idea what this woman has been through._ _Your life has probably been a bloody cakewalk of a ballet in comparison to what the Commander has been through in her lifetime._ She was about to move a hand to the back of the Commander’s head when Shepard moved so suddenly that it actually surprised Samantha. The Commander had moved, wrapped her arms around Samantha’s waist and placed her head in the crook of Samantha’s neck.

Samantha couldn’t help but smile for some reason. Even though the woman before her was one of the most dangerous, top ranking officers in the Alliance Navy—she was still human. And, even though Samantha knew that the Commander also had about six or so years on her, she still had a small side that needed help; an inner child that probably wasn’t allowed to show—ever. Samantha’s smile turned into a frown. _How long has she been holding onto whatever it is that’s upsetting her?_ Samantha questioned. She highly doubted that “ **The** Commander Shepard” broke down crying like this after every mission.

The Commander took several rapid, deep inhales that almost sounded of hysterics. Samantha continued to shush her, tightening her embrace around the woman’s shoulders and began caressing between her shoulders with her thumb. “There, there. I’m here,” she cooed on and noticed that she had been swaying them back and forth, ever so slightly.

The Commander took in a sharp inhale, but slowed down on her exhale, stopping the hysterical panicky breathing she’d been doing. Her outward sobs shortly started turning into quiet crying. Samantha squeezed the Commander’s shoulder again, this time she could feel the woman begin to relax into her.

“There you go, it’s alright,” Samantha said as she pulled Shepard a little closer to herself, continuing to sway the two of them and gently caressing her back. She felt so matronly; a feeling she’d never experienced before. She was always the friend who told the crude jokes at the absolute worst moment to make her friends feel better. She’d never really been the consoling type. Sure, friends had cried on her shoulder before, but never like this. Every petty breakup or seemingly catastrophic life drama her friends had gone through growing up was like watching a terribly dreadful romantic comedy vid in comparison to what the woman in her arms was going through.

Samantha rubbed the Commander’s back, subconsciously synchronizing her thumb rotations to the rhythm that she swayed them. She felt like she was trying to caress all of the worry away. She fought the urge to kiss the top of the Commander’s head; _that is most definitely against Alliance regs,_ she thought to herself.

The Commander’s crying finally seemed to be quieting down. Samantha didn’t really know what she’d been saying, but knew she’d been trying to console her with the empty words of a stranger. The Commander took in a breath and moved, seemingly nestling down into Samantha’s neck.

Samantha’s face relaxed; Shepard had finally stopped shaking, and it sounded like her crying was over. Samantha leaned her head down onto the top of the Commander’s head, a gesture that was probably too intimate to be appropriate, but Samantha felt that it was the right thing to do in the moment. She moved her right hand up the side of the Commander’s face. “See, everything’s alright,” Samantha said aloud, even though she didn’t believe any of her own words. Her hand met the Commander’s hair. She moved to tuck her red hair behind her ear and finally met skin. The Commander’s cheeks were swollen, lukewarm, and wet. “Here, let me grab you a handkerchief,” Sam said, motioning to move from the couch.

The Commander, however, didn’t move. She stayed still against Samantha’s neck, breathing slowly, but deeply. Samantha blinked hard a few times and tried to move to see the Commander’s face. She finally, very gently, moved the Commander, revealing her face. She was sound asleep.

Samantha smirked, _I_ **do** _have that effect on women._ She then immediately scowled at herself. _Oh grow up, Traynor._

Then, she started to panic. _Oh god. Oh shit. What do I do? I can’t just leave her like this!_ Samantha looked around. _Who would answer my page at this hour?_ She thought as she saw the clock read 24:13, space Alliance Standard time (AST). She blinked hard again. _Have I really been up here_ **that** _long?!_ The last time she looked a clock it had been just barely passed 21:30 AST.

She started to think of what she could do. Should she wake her up? Should she just lie her down on the couch and leave? Samantha thought desperately, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do in the given circumstance. Then it hit her—there was that overly helpful VI installed on the ship. “EDI, what do I do?!”

The VI’s voice sounded over the speakers in the Commander’s room; Samantha couldn’t help but stifle a grin when the voice that she’d pinned after for four months came through. “Specialist Traynor, if you are referring to the current state of Commander Shepard…initial scans indicate that she is suffering from sleep deprivation. I would advise putting her to bed,” the VI’s voice sounded, matter-o-factly. “Would you like me to hail another officer, to aid you putting Commander Shepard into her bed?”

“Wha—” Samantha sputtered. She looked at the Commander’s unconscious body leaned against hers to the bed a few feet away. _It isn’t_ **that** _far…_ “What’s that supposed to mean, EDI?”

“Scans show that you do not have an adequate muscle mass to physically move Commander Shepard in her current state. I could hail Lieutenant Vega. He has—”

“I don’t have the ‘adequate muscle mass’ to move Commander Shepard?!” Samantha rebutted. “Tell **that** to the women I’ve bedded,” Samantha said haughtily.

“Notification ready for distribution.  To which women should I send it out to, Specialist Traynor?”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Nevermind, EDI. Remind me to program you with a sarcasm chip next time I’m fiddling in your VI core.”

“Noted, Specialist Traynor. Would you like me to hail Lieutenant Vega?”

Samantha shook her head. “No, no EDI. I’ve got this. Just gotta get a good grip,” she said, contemplating where to place her hands to move the Commander to her bed. She ended up hooking her arms underneath the Commander’s and stood. It worked—for a split second before the Commander’s body slumped down. Samantha let out an “oouf” sound, bracing her legs from the weight of the woman’s unconscious body. She then started to force her legs to move forward, in a slow penguin like waddle, putting all of her effort into each step. The six steps it took to get to the Commander’s bed took Samantha two minutes to cross. _God, is she still wearing her gravity boots or something?! How can a woman_ **this fit** _be_ **so** _heavy?_

Samantha positioned the Commander’s body at the foot of the bed; her hope was to gently rest her backward onto the bed. That, of course, didn’t go as planned. As Samantha started to lean the Commander back, she lost her footing and fell on to the bed, on top of the unconscious Commander.  She instantly felt her cheeks flare red as her breasts compressed against the Commander’s.

She quickly rolled off of the top of her and stood from the bed, wiping precipitation from her brow. Thankfully, the Commander only took in a deep sigh, but didn’t wake up. Samantha let out a heavy breath. _Maybe I should start working out with Vega…this shouldn’t have been so hard,_ she thought to herself as she then situated herself in a seated position behind Commander Shepard, hooking her arms under Shepard’s and pulled her, as gently as she could, further up on the bed.

Samantha moved out from behind her. She hadn’t gotten the Commander all the way up on her bed, but her feet weren’t dangling off either. It was as good as she could get without really man-handling her Commanding Officer. _Goddamn regs,_ she thought as she looked the Commander’s body up and down again.

She vigorously shook her head and forced herself to look away. She looked at the low table and decided she should clean up a little before she left. After a few minutes of straightening up the living area, Samantha found herself scanning the room one last time, eyes landing on Shepard again. She dropped her shoulders with a heavy sigh, _I should probably tuck her in…_ she then took a closer look at the Commander’s clothing. The right side of her tank top and pants were covered in quite a bit of blood. _Why? Can’t you just walk away, Traynor? No? Okaaaay._

She reluctantly walked back over and sat down next to the sleeping woman. She gently started to unlace her combat boots. They both fell on the floor with an undignified “thud.” She then looked at the belt on the pants. _Never, in a million years, did I think I’d be actually undressing my CO. With my eyes, sure. But physically doing it? Never. And she_ **still** _doesn’t even know my name._

Samantha swallowed hard and began to undo the belt on Commander Shepard’s pants. Her palms were sweating just enough to make her fingers slip a few times. _Jesus, get a hold of yourself, Traynor. I’m sure the commander would do the same thing for you, in reversed circumstances._ She smiled to herself as she unzipped the cargo pants. Now that was something Samantha hadn’t thought about: Being undressed by such a strong, well toned woman. She felt the heat start to burn her cheeks again, and this time between her legs as well. _For Christ’s sake, Traynor—you’re as bad as a teenage boy who has only ever seen Hannar porn. Ugh._

Samantha did her best to take off the Commander’s pants and shirt without jostling her around too much, or staring too long. She left the bra and panties on, no need to sleep completely naked on a war ship. Who knew what’ll pop through the shuttle bay doors or the hull at any minute.

Before she stood from sitting on the bed, Samantha moved a pillow under the Commander’s head, and gently pulled a blanket over the sleeping woman’s body. She had the urge to caress her face for some reason, but she shook it off. She let out a loud exhale and put her hands on her knees to stand up when she felt the Commander’s hand fall gingerly into her lap. Samantha looked down at the Commander’s hand; she looked to be grabbing for something. She glanced up at the sleeping woman’s face, verifying that she was, in fact, still asleep. The Commander took in a deep breath and continued to search for something with her hand.

Samantha looked around, expecting someone to be holding an Alliance Regulations book at a threatening angle towards her, but she was still alone with the unconscious Commander. She then, slowly, cautiously, slipped her left hand into the searching hand of the Commander’s. She might have imagined it, but the sleeping Commander looked like she smiled, and nuzzled into her pillow ever so slightly as she squeezed Samantha’s hand. Samantha smiled. _Maybe working on the Normandy is where I belong. Really belong. . ._

_Oh quit daydreaming. She’s still your Commanding Officer, Traynor._

_Yeah—but I’ll always have_ **this** _moment._ She smiled to herself and, without really thinking what she was doing, leaned down and gently pressed her lips to the sleeping woman’s forehead. Because right now, that’s all she was—she **wasn’t** the infamous Commander Shepard, she **wasn’t** her Commanding Officer, she was a woman; a beautiful woman who needed sleep.

Samantha couldn’t tell, she probably imagined it again, but it felt as though the sleeping Commander inhaled deeply, and caressed Samantha’s hand. Samantha lifted her lips from the woman’s forehead, but hovered for a moment longer, smiling to herself. She seriously considered, only for a moment, gently kiss her Commander’s lips, but refrained from doing so. She bit her lower lip and then, slowly, and as quietly as she could, began to stand up from the bed. She gently laid the Commander’s hand down last.  “Sleep well, Commander Shepard,” Samantha said, going into an informal salute that would have gotten the bellowing yell of her Staff Sargent in basic—but she didn’t care. She was, after all, completely alone with the sleeping woman before her. _Well, EDI’s probably watching,_ she thought.   

She nodded and then quietly turned and started to walk out of the room. Before she got too far, she decided to leave the Commander a note: she scribbled out a quick note, pulled some pain pills out of the first aid kit, and filled a glass of water from the bathroom and set everything, quietly as she could muster, on the Commander’s night stand. She then turned the light of the aquarium off, and hit a few buttons on the door to make sure it closed behind her.

She stood a moment longer in the doorway, the light from the hallway falling perfectly on the sleeping Commander’s face, just like a scene from a dreadfully terrible romantic comedy vid. Samantha expression softened in an affectionate manner that she usually reserved for women she was romantically involved with. Shepard almost looked peaceful, lying there in the beam of light. Almost. _So long as we’ve got you alive and healthy, we’ll make it out of this, I think,_ Samantha thought. With one final smile, she nodded, forcing herself to look away from the beautiful woman that was her Commanding Officer, and retreated to the elevator.


	3. We're Only Human

Tree trunks were concealed by swirling black figures as Shepard ran through an unfamiliar thicket. Everything seemed impossibly slow, but the little boy that she was chasing seemed to move faster than anything around her. His incessant giggling resonated from trunk to trunk, causing an echoing effect as Shepard ran after him. He giggled, and dramatically switched directions, his white hoodie being the only thing that Shepard could see to keep track of his movements. Suddenly, his giggles turned to crying as she rounded a tree to find him kneeling on the forest floor. She ran up to him, still unbearably slow. Her hand reached out for him as their eyes made contact, but she was too late; the boy’s eyes grew empty as fire surrounded his small figure.

Shepard’s heavy eyes shot opened with an audible gasp from her throat. Her vision a complete blur, she blinked hard a few times and then moved her hands up to her face to rub her eyes. Her right hand made contact and she hissed. Her hand seared with pain. _Damn… that wall did a number on my hand,_ Shepard thought to herself. Along with the pain searing through her hand, she noticed that she had a headache and her nose and throat felt raw.

She sat up in her bed and noticed that sweat was trickling down her spine and sternum. _What the hell kind of dream…_ She ran her left hand through her disheveled hair as she tried to make sense of the dream she’d woken from; then she froze, looking around her room. She was in bed. There wasn’t anyone in the room with her. _What… what time is it?_ She glanced down at her omni-tool, it reacting to her touch.

It read: _[08:09 AST.]_

_What the hell? The last thing I remember is… is…_ she slumped her shoulders, looking up from her omni-tool. What **was** the last thing she remembered? She had been punching the wall… She looked down again, noticing that her right hand was completely wrapped; gauze underneath an outer protective fabric wrap. She blinked hard, looking at it in the dim light of her room. The recruit with the honeyed colored skin, and eyes too big for a war ship flashed into her mind. _That recruit walked up… and…and…_ Then her heart stopped. _I cried on her shoulder like a sniveling child!_ she recalled.

Although Shepard was mortified at the thought of showing such weakness to a brand new Alliance recruit, the details were still a bit fuzzy to her tired mind and body. She didn’t remember the recruit leaving, or even how she had gotten into bed. _Who undressed me?!_ She thought, finally looking down to see that the only clothing she was wearing was her Alliance issued bra and panties.

She glanced around the room again, her eyes finally allowing her to focus a bit more. It didn’t help that someone had turned aquarium light off. “EDI—will you override the light on the aquarium back to on?”

“Of course, Commander Shepard,” EDI’s synthetic voice sounded.

The light flickered on and revealed Shepard’s cabin in more detail: there were remnants of a first aid kit on her coffee table. Her clothing from the day before was neatly folded at the end of the bed. She glanced to her left, noticing a glass of water and three pill capsules atop a piece of paper on her night stand. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned over and carefully tugged the paper out from under the glass, using her free hand to slide the capsules away.

The paper had very tight, pristine hand writing on it; almost too legible, too precise. It read:

_“I know you don’t have a hangover, but I’m sure that your hand is starting to sting a little, so hints the random pills on your nightstand. I promise I’m not trying to slip you red sand or anything illicit. Honest. The water is to keep the galaxies’ cape-less superhero hydrated; can’t have you falling over on the job and turning into a prune because you forgot to take time to drink some essential H **2** O. So drink up. Refill. Drink up again. I’m no doctor, but I’m sure the doctor on duty would say something similar…minus the prune bit. _

_~S.T.”_

Shepard stared at the long note, raising an eyebrow. Her lips slowly crept into a smile when she re-read the “galaxies’ cape-less superhero” part. She read it a few times more, letting herself even make an audible laugh the last time through. Then she noticed, a few lines down from the main part of the note, a short continuation:

_“PS: Your secret is safe with me.”_

This brought the seriousness back to her brow. _Secret? What secret is this_ **S.T.,** _person referring to?_

“EDI, what happened last night?” Shepard said aloud, not looking away from the piece of paper and the last sentence on the page.

EDI’s voice responded immediately. “Unless you’re inquiring as to every action that occurred on the ship last night, could you be more specific, Commander Shepard?”

Shepard let out a low growl as she flung the remainder of the blanket off of her, revealing that someone had also taken off her pants. “I want to see any surveillance from my quarters last night. Starting when I came back aboard the Normandy.” She put the note down on her bed.

“Understood. Which screen would you like me to display it on, Commander?”

Shepard stood, running a quick hand through her hair again to get it out of her face. She needed a shower. She smelled of sweat, salt, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She grabbed a handful of her hair and brought it to her nose. _Why does my hair smell like someone’s cup of tea?_ she wondered to herself, crinkling her nose as she let her hair drop back down to her shoulder. “I have a screen in the bathroom, right?”

“Correct. Sending the feed to that console.” There was a pause. “Transfer complete. Please let me know when you’d like me to start the playback of the recording.”

Shepard turned her body toward the bathroom door but paused, looking back at her night stand. She looked from the night stand to the note on her bed… _I need to watch the video first…_ she thought to herself. The capsules weren’t ones she recognized anyway.

She shook her head and walked to the bathroom, unclasping her bra as she went. She took it off and hung it on a hook on the inside of the bathroom as the door slid shut behind her. As she went to take her panties off, she noticed that EDI had the surveillance footage cued and ready to go. “Go ahead and play it EDI.” She turned the water on and side stepped before the cold water hit her. She started to unwrap her hand while she waited for the water to heat up. She glanced up at the screen, opposite of where the shower resided. EDI had turned the volume on, but it wasn’t blaringly loud, thankfully, because she saw Liara and herself step out of the elevator, and she heard herself starting to yell. “EDI, will you fast forward the footage until that recruit comes up?”

The footage started to speed up, the sound cutting out. Shepard half watched the screen as she unwrapped her hand from the first bandage. By the time the fabric outer wrapping was free, Liara was walking out of the camera feed and into the elevator. She stood for a moment, watching herself begin to punch at the wall at a comically cartoony speed. Her expression softened and she looked back down to her hand. There was a mixture of dried blood and medigel goop that had seeped through the gauze pad. Shepard began to peel it off, slowly, not sure what she’d find underneath.

Sound suddenly returned to the bathroom with the sound of a woman saying “Commander Shepard?” She glanced up and saw the recruit that had flashed into her mind when she woke up and starting piecing things together. She watched, midway through unwrapping her hand, the scene between them. _I had no idea that she was there for that long. . .it took a lot of guts to get between me and the wall._ She also noted that she had been saying some of the things—she thought she’d only been thinking—out loud. She went back to unwrapping her hand when she saw the recruit run out of the frame and into the elevator.

Shepard put her right hand under the running water of the showerhead, the water was still just lukewarm, but it began to wash away the crusty dried blood and medigel residue. She brought her hand out of the water and up to her face. There were tiny looking scabs on top of all four knuckles, and faint brown bruises covering the entirety of the back of her hand. She clenched her jaw—she had Cerberus to thank for the speedy recovery. They’d rebuilt her, placing fast healing functions in the cybernetics’ that ran throughout her body. The same Cerberus that was responsible for Ashely’s hospitalization.

She shook her head and ran both hands through her hair. She couldn’t let herself start thinking like that again. She had to start gaining back her ever positive attitude. She looked back up at the screen just as the recruit walked back into her quarters, looking around frantically as she clutched first aid supplies to her chest.

Shepard tested the water. It was finally hot enough to her liking, and she stepped under the cascading facet.

* * *

Shepard finished looping her belt into her Formal Alliance pants and glanced back up at the screen as she fiddled with the buckle. EDI had transferred the feed to her living area, as Shepard had finished showering and needed to start getting ready for the day. EDI had also been kind enough to self edit and fast forward through the long bits of crying; only coming back to normal speed when something was said.

Shepard remembered crying into the woman’s embrace… but she didn’t remember physically saying anything while she was doing it. According to the footage, she had been mumbling incoherencies the entire time.

Shepard turned to grab her formal uniform shirt when she looked at her night stand again. She was standing there, only half dressed, underwear, shoes and pants were all that she wore. She clasped her bra together in the back and then moved toward the night stand to grab the glass of water. From what she’d seen in the footage, she didn’t have anything to worry about in regards to this simple recruit trying to poison her. But she didn’t take the pills.

EDI slowed the footage down to normal speed again.

[EDI, what do I do?!] sounded the voice of the recruit.

Shepard glanced up at the screen, seeing the recruit starting to look like she was beginning to panic. She, herself, looked like she’d passed out on top of the recruit.

[Specialist Traynor, if you are referring to the current state of Commander Shepard…initial scans indicate that she is suffering from sleep deprivation. I would advise putting her to bed.] There was a pause from EDI. [Would you like me to hail another officer, to aid you putting Commander Shepard into her bed?]

[Wha—] sputtered from the recruit’s, apparently a specialist, mouth. Specialist Traynor looked at Shepard sleeping body and then to Shepard’s bed and pouted her bottom lip out. [What’s that supposed to mean, EDI?]

[Scans show that you do not have an adequate muscle mass to physically move Commander Shepard in her current state.] Commander Shepard chuckled at that, eying the Specialist and concurring with EDI. [I could hail Lieutenant Vega. He has—]

[I don’t have the ‘adequate muscle mass’ to move Commander Shepard?!] Specialist Traynor spat. [Tell **that** to the women I’ve bedded,] she said haughtily, getting another low chuckle from Shepard as she took a sip from the water glass. She was starting to find the Specialist quite humorous.

EDI’s voice sounded again. [Notification ready for distribution.  To which women should I send it out to, Specialist Traynor?]

Shepard choked on the water she had just drunk. She forced herself to cough, fitting back tears from the pain radiating from the back of her throat. When she finally swallowed, gasping slightly for air, EDI’s voice sounded overhead, “Are you alright, Commander Shepdard.”

“Yup,” Shepard coughed again. “That was just a good one, EDI,” Shepard smiled, still trying to clear her throat.

“Thank you,” EDI’s voice sounded from the rooms speakers. “I thought it was an adequate response to get Specialist Traynor to calm down at the time. The joke seemed to have worked.”

Shepard took a cautious sip of water, trying to alleviate the raw feeling she now had in the back of her throat. EDI continued the recording, speeding up the footage. Shepard put the glass down and continued to watch the footage, making no movement to finish getting dressed. She brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled; a sound the marine very rarely made. The fast forwarding action of the Specialist waddling Shepard’s unconscious body to the bed was quite comical to watch.

Shepard stood there smiling, left arm across her chest with her right elbow in her left hand and her right hand up by her mouth, and watched the Specialist struggle getting Shepard into bed. She made a quiet chuckle when the Specialist fell on top of her unconscious self; it was still more comical because of the fast speed of the playback.

The Specialist, from what Shepard could tell on the fast forwarded footage, was diligently trying to make Shepard as comfortable as possible. Shepard asked EDI to slow the playback down to just slightly faster than full speed and asked her to zoom in on where the two were. EDI complied, quickly doing as she was asked. The closer zoom revealed just how nervous the Specialist looked… and how badly she was blushing while she fought with Shepard’s belt.

Shepard brought her hand down, away from her mouth, and crossed both hands over her chest and narrowed her eyes as she watched. The Specialist’s hands hovered over Shepard’s body for a moment after getting Shepard’s shirt off. Shepard noticed the Specialist take in a deep breath, look around the room and move her hands to her knees to stand. Shepard blinked, narrowing her eyes when she noticed that she’d then reached out for the Specialist as she was moving to stand. “EDI, slow it to real time.”

“Of course, Commander,” EDI sounded, already playing the footage at normal speed.

Shepard watched the nervousness doubled in the Specialist’s face. She glanced around the room again, but when she looked back at Shepard she began to calm down. She then smiled and slid her hand into Shepard’s searching one. She stayed like that for a few moments, and then, to Shepard’s surprise, leaned forward and kissed Shepard’s forehead. Shepard’s eyes went wide, hand subconsciously going up to her forehead where the Specialist had kissed her. She then watched the Specialist stand, feebly salute her sleeping body, and turn to leave. She paused at the desk and started to write a note.

“EDI,” Shepard started, grabbing the shirt she’d pulled out earlier. “I need Specialist Traynor’s dossier on my datapad. Now.” She pulled the shirt over her shoulders, but didn’t begin to fasten the front of it, leaving her torso relatively exposed.

“Understood Commander Shepard,” EDI complied. “You have it now.”

Shepard felt her neck tense and her jaw clench and she walked to her desk. She picked up her datapad from next to her personal console.  “Does she have an active request to be stationed on the Normandy?” she asked as she opened Specialist Traynor’s dossier file.

“She does,” EDI sounded again. “I would prefer it i—”

“Deny the request,” Shepard interrupted. Shepard had a feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t worry. She didn’t know what the feeling was. Embarrassment, maybe? But she knew she couldn’t have that woman on the ship.

“Commander,” EDI’s synthetic voice sounded.

Shepard imagined that EDI had made it a question, even though there was no inflection in her synthetic voice. “It wasn’t a question, EDI. Deny the request.” Shepard clenched her jaw. She couldn’t have a subordinate who had seen her so vulnerable on the ship. It didn’t bode well for moral if the woman let it out that her Commanding Officer had spent hours sobbing on her shoulder, whimpering about reapers and how unfair the war and life was.

She looked at a picture of Specialist Traynor in the dossier that she held in her hand. The woman was gorgeous; gentle eyes that had an instant calming effect on Shepard’s tense thoughts. In Specialist Traynor’s Alliance photo, she still had a playful smirk on her face, even though regulations state that all personnel photos had to have an emotionally neutral expression.

“Commander Shepard, might I make a suggestion.”

Shepard didn’t respond to EDI. She continued to look at Specialist Traynor’s photo. _She’d only get herself killed on this crew,_ Shepard thought. _I can’t condemn her to die._

_But you’d condemn her to her death if you_ **didn’t** _let her serve on your crew,_ another voice in the back of her mind chimed. _You’d be able to keep her safe; safer than any colony right now._

Shepard shook her head. _I couldn’t keep Ashley or Liara safe yesterday._

_True—but Specialist Traynor is a Comm. Specialist. She would hardly leave the ship. She’d be there, waiting for you, every time you boarded the Normandy. . ._

Shepard let her thoughts slip into that of a less than professional nature, imagining being greeted with a passionate kiss and embrace as she looked into the eyes of Specialist Traynor’s photo. Her large brown eyes looked so innocent. Like she’d never seen combat. Seen war. _I can’t ruin her. I can’t have her on my ship…_

_Can’t have her on your ship? Or is it that you don’t want the temptation of falling for her?_

“Commander Shepard,” EDI sounded again.

“EDI—I gave you an order. Deny the request for Specialist Traynor to join the Normandy,” she growled back.

“Commander Shepard Spe—”

“I. Gave. You. An. Order.” Shepard said, each word forcefully articulated as she spoke over EDI.

“Specialist Traynor has just exited the elevator to your cabin deck.”

Shepard’s eyes darted towards the door and then down to her torso. She dropped the datapad onto her desk and started fastening her shirt together. She had three buttons left when there was a request to entry notification from the holo on the door.

“Enter,” Shepard sputtered, fighting with the third to last fasten. Her hands were just slightly starting to sweat. She’d never had to tell someone that she didn’t want them serving with her and her crew. She wasn’t looking forward to the next few minutes.

The door slid open and an oddly familiar, yet unfamiliar face walked in. Specialist Traynor rounded the corner of Shepard’s desk and stood in a proper salute.  “Commander Shepard, I’m Specialist---oh. Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you’ve dressed, Commander,” the Specialist stammered nervously.

Shepard waved a hand at her. “At ease, Specialist,” she said, finally getting the stubborn fasten to go through. _It’s not like she hasn’t already seen what’s underneath._ She left the last two for now. She looked up to see Specialist Traynor drop her salute, but stayed in a very ridged stance. Shepard noticed a slight tinge of pink to the Specialist’s cheeks. _When was the last time you made a woman blush,_ that small voice in the back of her head chimed annoyingly.

“Right. Um,” Specialist Traynor started. “I’m Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance.”

Shepard wished that she’d had time to go over Specialist Traynor’s dossier before she had to speak with her. She didn’t know how to start…but ultimately, she didn’t know how to turn down the Specialist’s request to be stationed on the Normandy. Before she could get a word in, the Specialist continued.

* * *

It was 08:30 AST. Samantha was fighting the urge to bite her finger nails; she had only gotten two hours of restless sleep before her shift at the CIC started. She stood at her console next to the galaxy map and stifled a yawn. There were plenty of things that needed her attention, especially some messages from the Turian fleet on Palaven that were extremely damaged and difficult to decode. She’d spent the last two hours working diligently on several that came through. She had just opened her sixth encoded message when she noticed the time.

_I’m surprised that Commander Shepard hasn’t made an appearance on the CIC yet,_ she anxiously thought to herself. Glancing around, Samantha saw that no one was remotely close to her or her screen. She bit her lower lip and hacked into the elevator logs. _Maybe she went to the shuttle bay to calibrate her gun…or something_ , she thought as she started typing. After a minute or so of hacking around the perpetually helpful, but often times nosey, VI’s firewalls, Samantha finally gained access to the logs. After a quick read, she noticed that there hadn’t been activity up to the Commander’s quarters, which meant that the Commander had not left her quarters yet.

_Oh god,_ Samantha’s mind started. _What if she has some deathly allergic reaction to medigel and she’s lying in bed dead?!_ her mind raced irrationally. _Oh I knew I should have gotten someone’s help._ She continued to bite her lower lip and then tried to mentally calm herself down. _Give it until 09:00. If there_ **still** _hasn’t been any activity, then just go and check. . ._

She closed out of the log; it had been easy enough for her to pass through the security. If she kept it opened she feared that the ship’s VI would notice.

Samantha busied herself with decoding the message from Palaven she’d pulled up, but couldn’t stop herself from tapping her heel to try and make the time move faster. The message was heavily encrypted, but she knew she’d break it at some point. She was trying to pinpoint the location of the of the strike force that was doing reconnaissance on Menae, Palaven’s largest moon. She’d narrowed down the search parameters to one fourth of the moon, simply through the messages that she’d been intercepting. _I’m sure when we get there, we’ll be able to see the bloody reapers,_ Samantha darkly thought to herself, forcing herself not to look at the clock.

08:56 AST, Samantha couldn’t hold out for the next four minutes to pass and accessed the elevator logs again. There still hadn’t been any activity to or from the Commander’s quarters. Before she let herself get distraught, she closed the log and pulled up another, logging the water flow in the ship. It took less time to access, but more time to pinpoint what she was looking for. The ship automatically logged everything—from how many times the water runs from a faucet, is flushed, or used in the shower. She finally pinpointed the location of the Commander’s cabin and read that a shower had stopped running about thirty minutes prior. Samantha relaxed her hands on her keyboard and let out the breath that she’d been holding. The muscles in her shoulders and neck relaxed. She then slowly started to feel a smile creep onto her face. _She must have needed the sleep,_ she thought.

Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the sleeping Commander’s body, before she left the night before. Even while she was completely unconscious, Commander Shepard had the most defined muscles on a woman that Samantha had ever seen in person. Not the chiseled, protruding muscles—no. Shepard’s muscles were long, lean muscles under soft skin. Human skin. The Commander wasn’t some fictitious comic book super hero anymore to Samantha; the Commander was a real woman, and a beautiful woman at that. A woman that gave her adolescent butterflies whenever she thought about her.

She shook her head, running a slightly sweaty palm over her face to try and get herself to stop smirking at the image of her CO in her head. _You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Traynor. Keep having thoughts like that and you’re bound to blurt something inappropriate out and blunder yourself in front of her. Then you’ll for sure be thrown off of the Normandy for disregarding fraternization regulations._

She let out another exhale, this time prepping herself to go and talk to her Commander and actually introduce herself. _No one will miss me on the CIC,_ she thought, looking around. _I’ll just be a few minutes…Oh, I’ll explain the new layout of the ship!_ she thought, grabbing her datapad and pulling up the retrofit file she’d compiled for a report she put in as they were docked at the Citadel. _That’ll at least give you a reason to intrude on your CO again, at any rate…_

She nodded to herself, in her ever self motivating fashion and then turned on her heal towards the elevator. She nodded to an engineer as he passed her work station and then pressed the elevator button. It took a few moments for the doors to slide open. She stepped to the side, allowing the crew inside to step off and then she walked on and pressed “1.” The nervousness from the day before slowly started to skulk back into her stomach.

Samantha concentrated on her breathing. She didn’t want to be flushed or anxious when she met her Commanding Officer this time. She’d made the decision yesterday, while they were docked at the Citadel that she wanted to be stationed on the Normandy. She couldn’t think of a better place that she could be to help with the war effort. Since they’d already left port, she figured that the request had been accepted, but she still felt that she had to prove herself to Commander Shepard. Shepard was known for having small, close-knit teams that worked flawlessly together, accomplishing impossible feats all over the galaxy. She wanted to be a part of that team.

_Do you want to be a part of a team… or do you want to try and wriggle your way into your Commanding Officer’s personal life?_ she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk as the elevator opened on Commander Shepard’s deck. She walked slowly to the door of Shepard’s quarters and let out a long breath before knocking. She didn’t want her subconscious infatuation with Shepard’s body to interfere with her second chance at her first impression.

She heard the muffled sound of “Enter,” from Shepard inside the cabin. The door beeped and slid open. She walked through, noticing Commander Shepard standing by her desk. Samantha went into a full salute. “Commander Shepard, I’m Specialist—oh,” she stopped. Commander Shepard’s bra was still visible as she attempted to finish fastening her shirt together. It wasn’t the bra that made Samantha blush; it was standard issue, nothing fancy about it, just like her own. It was the fact that she saw the skin of Shepard’s breasts again that made her cheeks flush. “Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you’ve dressed, Commander,” Samantha managed, the image of Shepard’s sleeping body last night flashing through her mind. She felt the heat on her cheeks and immediately started to curse herself in her head.

Shepard waved a hand at her. “At ease, Specialist.” Shepard finally finished fussing with the fastening and left the last two alone, leaving the base of her neck more visible than the formal uniform typically allowed. She looked up at Samantha, but avoided her gaze. She looked like she had just interrupted Shepard deep in thought.

Samantha dropped her salute, but reminded herself that she was still in the presence of her Commanding Officer and stood at attention. “Right. Um,” she started. _Remember, you don’t get a third chance at a first impression…_ “I’m Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance,” she said, stuttering over a few words as she spoke too quickly.

Then something happened that Samantha wasn’t expecting. Shepard smiled. She put up a hand, motioning towards Samantha. “Slow down, Specialist Traynor.”

Samantha let off a nervous smile. “Sorry Commander. I worked in a lab; I’m not really used to reporting to a Commanding Officer. So I’m a bit out of practice I guess,” she said before she could filter herself. _She doesn’t care, Traynor. Right now you’re just another squib taking up her time._ She felt her cheeks burn hotter.

“You’re doing fine, Traynor,” Shepard said, shifting her weight to her left hip and leaning slightly away from Samantha, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Thank you,” Samantha said, bringing a nervous hand up and instinctively tucking her hair behind her ear. “I never thought that I’d be working on an active war ship. I was on the ship working on retrofits when the Reapers hit Earth…” Samantha trailed off, the image of red beams annihilating buildings still too fresh in her mind. She closed her eyes, mentally shook herself out of it and continued, “In any event, I am honored to serve under you commander,” her cheeks flushed again. _Is everything you say an innuendo, Traynor? Remember, fraternization regulations… “F_ or as long as you need me, that is,” she added hastily.

“About that,” Shepard interrupted, looking uncomfortable.

Samantha felt her cheeks pale. _Oh god—she’s going to kick me off because of last night. She was probably awake when I kissed her. . ._ She clenched her jaw, trying to stifle any emotion from showing on her face.

“I went over your station request and I have to say that—”

“Shepard,” EDI’s lustrous voice sounded over the speakers in Shepard cabin. Samantha noticed Shepard give a low growl and rolled her eyes slightly at being interrupted by the VI.  “Some of our systems require further testing. And Specialist Traynor has been extremely effective during installation. I would prefer that she remain.”

Samantha caught herself blinking. _VI’s don’t make requests…_

She glanced at Shepard’s face. Shepard was distinctly looking away from Samantha, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. Samantha’s heart sank; _she wants me off of the ship._

As Samantha’s shoulder started to sink, Shepard let out a loud exhale and folded her arms over her stomach, “Got it EDI.”

Samantha blinked rapidly, not quite understanding what had just happened. “Wait, when does a virtual intelligence make requests?”

Shepard finally looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. “EDI’s an AI. Fully self-aware.”

“Oh, I knew it,” Samantha declared, making a playful frown at the ceiling. “I knew Joker was lying. You’ve been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI.”

“Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself,” EDI sounded again. “I apologize for the deception.”

“Thanks EDI, and I—” Samantha felt her cheeks start to burn red again. She chanced a glance at Commander Shepard, who was giving her a quizzical look. “I apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—” she said hastily, pulling her datapad out of her cargo pocket. “Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you’ll be impressed with the new upgrades.” Samantha looked up from the datapad, ready to give the Commander a well rehearsed presentation of the new ship layout and equipment, but she stopped cold when she noticed the look in Shepard’s eyes.

“I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk,” Shepard said, with a very stern composure.

Samantha swallowed hard. “About last night, you mean?”

* * *

Shepard looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes.  _She thinks that EDI is a VI?_ “EDI’s an AI. Fully self-aware.”  _Either Specialist Traynor isn’t as good as EDI says, or EDI is a better actress than I gave her credit for._

“Oh, I knew it,” Samantha declared, frowning at the ceiling and shaking her head. “I knew Joker was lying. You’ve been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI.”

“Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself. I apologize for the deception.”

“Thanks EDI, and I—” Samantha cheeks started to flush again. Shepard raised her eyebrow at Samantha. “Apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—” Samantha said, carefully choosing her words while trying to still say them quickly.  Shepard smirked, squinting at the Specialist, taking a humorous note on how attractive she was to a robotic voice. Specialist Traynor cleared her throat and pulled out a datapad out of her cargo pocket. “Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you’ll be impressed with the new upgrades.”

Shepard face went back to her stern reproach. _If she’s staying on the ship, then we have to talk about last night…shit._ She let out a long exhale and said, “I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk.”

Shepard notice the flustered look in Samantha’s face change to that of worry, creasing her laugh lines in a way that made her look less innocent. “About last night, you mean?” she responded sheepishly. Samantha still held the datapad in her hands, but she was starting to fidget with it, looking uncomfortable.

Shepard found herself nodding. “First, I should say thank you,” she started. It got the worried look on Samantha’s face to lessen. _Good… I don’t think that I can handle her looking upset._ “It took a lot of guts to get between me and that wall.”

Samantha nodded, making a pointed effort to not look Shepard in the eyes. “It was rather frightening to walk in on. But someone had to stop you before you destroyed the ship, I suppose.” She smiled at her fleeting attempt at humor. She motioned to the door with her thumb, “I mean, did you see the dent you put out there?”

Samantha’s face flattened when she saw the look on Shepard’s face. Shepard clenched her jaw, staring unfocused at the door. She still couldn’t believe that she’d let a subordinate see her loose it so badly.

“Speaking of which, how is your hand?” Samantha asked uncertainly.

Shepard blinked hard, forcing herself to refocus her vision. “Wha—oh it’s fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Samantha bit her lower lip, clutching the datapad a little tighter in her hands. “I know that I might be out of line, Commander, but I think that you should have the Doctor on duty give it a look.”

Shepard shook her head. “It’s fine. You did a fine job of patching it up, and the medigel took care of the rest.”

Samantha nodded, still looking fairly nervous.

Shepard closed her eyes, let out another breath and then turned to face Samantha, looking her square in the eyes. “That aside, Specialist Traynor, EDI showed me the rest of what happened.”

Samantha’s eyes widen. “She did?”

Shepard nodded. “I need to say that what you saw last night is something that I cannot have the rest of the crew knowing about, you understand?” Shepard ended firmly.

“Oh, of course Commander. I would never blather that to the rest of the crew,” Samantha responded quickly, taking a step forward and putting a nervous hand to her heart. “I meant what I wrote. You’re a cape-less superwoman **and** that you’re secret is safe with me,” Samantha said, laughter returning to her eyes. Shepard saw her checks ting red again before Samantha shrugged, dropping her hand from her chest and continued. “I mean, in all honesty Commander, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through—what you’ve been through.”

Shepard found herself nodding, letting her posture relax a little, trying not to picture Earth. She let Samantha’s off kilter humor warrant a smile, though. She needed to bring up the fact that Samantha had kissed her, but she almost didn’t want to. Part of her wanted to keep that to herself, letting Samantha think that EDI hadn’t shown her the last part of the evening.

Shepard apparently stood there too long, her face falling while she was thinking about the Specialist in front of her. Shepard looked away from Samantha, chewing on her lip subconsciously.

Samantha took a few cautious steps toward Shepard, timidly putting a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “Commander, you’re out there trying to save, not only one world, not even just a single solar system—you’re out there trying to save the entire galaxy.” Samantha moved her head, still stepping one step closer to her Commanding Officer, leaving a gap of maybe five inches between them. She moved her head attempting to catch Shepard’s eye.

Shepard finally met her gaze and instantly had a feeling of calm wash over her. Normally she would have made a mention of getting too friendly with a subordinate, the way the Samantha gingerly cupped her shoulder and how intimately close she was to her; but she couldn’t help welcoming the feeling of her touch. There was something about Specialist Traynor that made Shepard feel completely at ease. No other person, besides Ash, had that effect on her.

“We’re only human,” Samantha continued. Her hand moved from cupping Shepard’s shoulder to closer to the base of her neck. Her grip was gentle, but she pulled Shepard towards her, just so. She gave a smile, showing her brilliantly white teeth and brought her other hand to her mouth, holding the datapad up, shielding her mouth from the side and whispered playfully. “I’ll let in you in on my own little secret. . . I can’t shoot worth a damn. Hints why I was put into R&D,” she winked, her smile moving into her eyes. She dropped her hand and spoke at a normal volume.  “But you, Commander…You can’t lug around all of that emotional baggage every day. So, if you crying on my shoulder or needing someone to talk to every once in a while—or every day for that matter, I’m not picky—if it will help…” she paused, choosing her words as she held Shepard’s gaze. “If it will help, then I’ll gladly report for duty whenever you need me.”

Shepard stood there for a moment, looking into Samantha’s beautiful auburn eyes. She was vaguely reminded of Kelly Chambers, from when she was working with Cerberus. Kelly had adamantly tried to get close to Shepard, but the woman always made her uncomfortable. But staring into Samantha’s eyes, Shepard fought the feeling of hotness in her own eyes—feeling as if she were to about start crying again; but this time it was a happy emotion. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in such a long time… not since before she met Ashley on Eden Prime.

She could faintly smell honey and some kind of tea—the smell that her hair had absorbed from the night before. Shepard took in a deep breath, taking it in when she noticed that the two of them were slowly moving closer together. She let out a quick cough and stood straight; negating all the space they’d moved in the last few moments and looked away from Samantha.

Samantha bit her lip and anxiously looked from side to side rapidly. She gave a curt nod and went to move back a bit; but before she let go of Shepard’s shoulder, Shepard moved her hand up to Samantha’s lingering hand and took hold of the top of it, squeezing ever-so-slightly.  Without looking back into Samantha’s eyes, for fear of doing something inappropriate, Shepard said “Thank you, Specialist Traynor.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a smile wipe away the anxious complexion on Samantha’s face. She even felt the tension leave her arm through her hand. Samantha squeezed slightly back on Shepard’s fingers. “Call me Samantha, Commander.”

Shepard smiled, letting go of Samantha’s hand as she moved it from her shoulder. Shepard didn’t understand why she had had the urge to touch Samantha, but it had happened before she could stop herself. “Thank you, Samantha.” She looked back up to meet her eyes, and they smiled at each other for a moment longer. Shepard knew that she didn’t want Samantha to leave. She didn’t want to walk down to the CIC and face the war ahead of her. She wanted to stay at peace for a few moments longer, taking in the calming effect the Specialist Traynor had on her.

She glanced down at the datapad in Samantha’s other hand, and smiled to herself. _I can spend a few more minutes up here…_ “Tell me about the retrofits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise that we’re moving out of this scene. From here on out, I hope that the story will progress much quicker. I don’t plan on writing any scenes while Shepard is on the ground doing missions. I’ll be writing mostly during the time spent flying to and from missions and some time spent on the Citadel. As always, thanks for reading and don’t forget to kudos comment! Go ahead… do it. You’ll make my day.


	4. Promise Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While doing research for Shepard’s back-story, I found out that stock Shepard and I share the same birthday. Needless to say, I did a little happy dance hand gyration and proceeded to run from room to room telling all of my housemates. Yup—I’m that kid.
> 
> Just a quick FYI—I’ve changed up the time line for the story, but most noticeably, in this chapter and the following chapter. Typically EDI would have taken over the mech’s body in the scene that I am writing into but I’m saving it for later—mainly so you aren’t reading a ridiculously long chapter (it’s long enough as it is). So, per-usual, I hope you enjoy this installment and cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Shepard couldn’t help but smile: It was damn good to see Garrus again. When she initially had heard about Palaven, she immediately worried that she would never again get to see his mangled mandibles. But as glad as she was to see him, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. While they were on Menae, Shepard had seen Reapers in the sky line, tearing into Garrus’ fellow Turian soldiers as they attempted to defend their perceived tactical advantage point. She could see reapers annihilate entire sections of the space fleet as they were running to secure the communications tower that had gone down. There were still light spots burned into her eyes from looking too long at Palaven’s burning terrain.

Although the reaper invasion held no similarities to the Batarian slavers attack on Mindoir, Shepard couldn’t help but remember that day as she watched the burning terrain of Palaven through the comm. feed on the Kodiak’s console. She had been sixteen, getting ready to go and do some menial farming work with her father. She couldn’t remember what they were supposed to go and do specifically, but she did remember how upset she was at him for having to go and do it. She had made plans with her first girlfriend that afternoon but had to cancel because of her father. As she was putting her shoes on to leave the house she started to hear the screaming. She had ran outside to see what the screaming was about, running into the street with only one shoe on. Down the road, smoke billowed from the crops, almost concealing the strange ships, ships that Jane hadn’t recognize, shooting beams into the fields below. The crops were aflame, burning a hot orange.

Shepard suddenly closed her eyes and started to count to ten; a trick she’d learned from Commander Beck after her first few missions as an N7 Alliance soldier when the memories of Elysium and the Blitz flooded her mind. She had more important things to worry about than to worry about past happenings that would never change. _On top of the reapers,_ Shepard thought, opening her eyes and looking toward the new Turian Primarch, General Victus. _I now have to figure out an alliance with the Turian and the Krogan. Do these people not realize that we’re at war for our lives? Our very existence could be wiped out!_

She closed her eyes again. _Don’t start that now… stay positive,_ she prompted to herself. She opened her eyes again and glanced towards Garrus and Primarch Victus. She had taken two of the Turian’s best men with her to fight politics. By all rights, they should have stayed with their men. Given them hope. But Shepard had demanded Primarch Victus leave with her on the Normandy—she’d threatened to knock him unconscious and carry him off of the moon if she had to. Garrus came of his own volition; but she could tell by the look on his face as he took one last glance to Palaven before boarding the Kodiak that he had serious doubts about leaving, too. 

“I still can’t believe that this is all really happening,” Garrus said gruffly, finally leaning back from his stiff posture into the Kodiak’s seat.

Shepard looked at him and saw a tired soldier. “You’ve been with me since the beginning of all this, back when Saren was trying to open the mass relays for Sovereign. What do you mean ‘you can’t believe that is it happening.’?”

Garrus smirked. “It’s one thing to go gallivanting through the galaxy, stopping unspeakable horrors with you, Shepard. But—it always seemed so far off. Like we always had more time. But now… Now we’re all out of time, I guess.”

Shepard felt her jaw clench. “Yeah,” was all she said, slumping her shoulders as she relaxed back into her seat.

“I still think this is all bullshit,” James sounded, leaning in the doorway between the Kodiak’s seating area and Steve’s cockpit. “We’re soldiers, not goddamned taxi men.”

Steve chuckled. “Tell me about it,” he said, trying to lighten the somber mood in the Kodiak.

James scowled. “You know what I mean, Esteban. Here we are, some of the most badass sons of bitches in the entire galaxy, and what are we doing?”

“At ease, Vega,” Shepard cautioned. Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was definitely a warning that James was walking on thin ice.

“No, Lola. We should be out there fighting these fucking things!” James refuted, pointing towards to Kodiak’s doors. “But instead—we’re running to the rescue of the Turian political hierarchy and gathering allies that probably won’t come through for us when it counts anyway!” James jolted himself slightly, after making eye contact with Garrus’ threateningly quizzical stare. “Don’t get me wrong, you two are great,” James recovered. “But don’t you wish that you were back on Menae, fighting?”

Garrus let out a sigh and clicked his mandibles. But it was Primarch Victus who spoke. “Of course we would. We’re Turian. War runs through our blood. War is the substance that our bones grow from. But,” he paused, glancing at the comm. feed of the space battle raging outside. “If what we can accomplish together saves a few million lives, then it is worth it in the long run.”

James shook his head. “How is this going to sa—”

“At. Ease. Vega.” Shepard demanded, standing from her spot, her voice severe and venomously articulated.

James took a cautious step back and put both hands up to his chest, surrendering. “Okay, okay,” he said, shaking his head. “But you know I’m right.”

Shepard glared at him, jaw clenched and eyebrows at a dangerous incline. With his hands still up, James shrugged and raised his eyebrows, showing that he was backing down.

The Kodiak hit a bit of turbulence and Shepard grabbed a handle bar on the low ceiling. She looked at the Kodiak’s door and let her eyes stare off, out of focus, into her own thoughts. She knew that what James said rang true to all three Soldiers she was with, including herself. All four of them were torn from their home world to go and attempt to get galactic help. None of them were meant to be politicians. Shepard knew that better than any of them. She’d attempted to get the council to ready the galaxy for the Reaper invasion, but was always scoffed at, and told that she had no evidence. _We’re in the twenty second century and we still can’t play our memories for other to see_ , she thought bitterly. If the council or the Alliance could see the things she’d seen in the last three years, they would have jumped at her words and began preparations when she saw her first signs of the reapers on Virmire.

_Or maybe I’m just not convincing enough. Maybe there was something more that I could have done to persuade the council… to make them see the incoming reaper threat. Maybe there was something I missed._ Shepard’s thoughts continued, darkly. _Maybe there was something in that Collector Base that would have held answers. Maybe blowing it up was the wrong course of action… I could have turned it over to the alliance instead of the Illusive Man. I could have—_

“So Shepard, any word from Earth?” Garrus’ voice intruded on Shepard’s thoughts.

She closed her eyes, trying to rid her thoughts of self-doubt from her mind. “I’ve heard from Hackett…Earth’s taking a brutal beating, but they’re holding out,” was all she let herself say. She didn’t want to say more for fear of revealing how uneasy she felt.

Garrus’ noticed the finality in Shepard’s words and remained quiet. James shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms and shifted his weight to his back leg, pointedly leaning away from Shepard.

“Joker, ETA five minutes out. Prepare the shuttle bay for docking,” Steve sounded from the cockpit awkwardly.

* * *

Samantha closed her eyes a let out a long breath. She’d been working tirelessly on intercepting communication on Menae to help General Corinthus pinpoint the location of the newly designated Primarch. She still couldn’t grasp that they had slipped in undetected behind the moon and avoided fighting the reapers. Her stomach dropped whenever she noticed massive amounts of comm. channels go offline all at once.

_Bloody.Gigantic.Robotic.Squid.Juggernauts_ , Samantha thought contemptuously.  _It’s a good thing that_ **real** _squids don’t have death beams coming from their foreheads. That would have made deep sea exploration a bit of a problem_ , she mused, trying to lighten the mood in her head. She continued to think of the similarities of Reapers and Squids, stemming from the fact that squids were deep sea dwellers and reapers came from Dark Space. _I wonder if dark space is anything like the bottom of the Atlantic?_

She knew that she was being ridiculous, comparing Reapers to highly endangered sea creatures. But standing in the CIC while Commander Shepard and her crew were on the ground was positively nerve wracking. She didn’t know if it was because they had flown into Reaper infested space or if she was afraid that Shepard wouldn’t return.

She shook her head. _It’s the reapers that make you nervous, Traynor. Of course Shepard’s coming back, you idiot. She’s Commander Shepard._

She had been slightly confused, when Steve had returned to the Normandy to drop off Dr. T’Soni. She’d patched in a new comm. channel, shortly before their return, to a Turian that Shepard referred to as Garrus. Originally she was excited to hear that Steve was headed back, thinking that Shepard had found the Primarch on a whim. But that thought only lasted a few seconds before Shepard’s comm. flared up with combat noise. The Turian had yelled something that sounded like “Harvester” and all she heard was gun fire for a few tense moments. Only then did she realize that they weren’t on their way back with Steve.

She shook her head and then focused back on her work. She had intercepted a distress beacon from Grissom academy about a half an hour ago but hadn’t been able to get to until now. Now that she had confirmation that Commander Shepard and crew were five minutes out, she opened the file. She narrowed her eyes and creased her brow as she started reading. _Why am I getting this? It seems pretty standard,_ she thought as she scrolled through the signal. There had been a response from a Turian vessel to the academy’s distress signal. _Hold on,_ she thought, catching the timing of the response to the distress signal. The distress signal had been fired at 11:07:39 AST. The Turian response had been signaled at 11:07:45 AST. _Really? They responded within six seconds?_

The lights suddenly fluctuated, dimming the lights and powering down the galaxy map for a matter of seconds. Samantha stood straighter and glanced around the CIC. “What on earth…” she whispered. Everyone else had looked up from their work stations, trying to figure out what was going on.

A notification came up on her holo screen that brought her attention back to her console. The notification was from the Citadel. Samantha raised an eyebrow at it for a moment before she realized that it was a communication channel from the Asari Councilor’s office.

“EDI?” Samantha summoned, opening up the new channel and started typing up a response.

“Yes, Specialist Traynor?” EDI responded, taking longer to do so than normal.

“I’ve flagged a distress signal and a response on my console from Grissom Academy. Could you look at them? Something doesn’t seem right.”

It took EDI a few moments to respond again. Samantha was about to ask again when EDI finally said, “Of course, Specialist Traynor. I am currently tasked to capacity… dealing with the prothean data in the Cerberus mech.” EDI added. “I will inform you when I have completed my analysis.”

“Thanks,” Samantha said, not really thinking about it. If the Turian fleet had indeed come to the rescue, then it wasn’t an issue. But she still wanted to check it through.

Samantha found herself thinking of Shepard while she started closing down a few of the windows she had running. She hadn’t spoken to Commander Shepard since introducing herself the day before. She still felt a little uneasy around the crew, like she was keeping this huge secret from everyone around her. But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but smile every time she glanced at her right hand, the one that Shepard had squeezed before thanking her. She looked down and cupped her right hand with her left and smirked, slightly shaking her head at herself. _I still can’t believe that you let yourself lean into her like that,_ she thought, recollecting how close the two of them had been before Shepard had cleared her throat. Samantha let out a short, forced laugh that was too quiet for anyone to hear. _Jesus, Traynor. You were millimeters away from kissing **The** Commander Shepard._ She shook her head again, but this time slightly frowning. _She isn’t some mythological war hero, she’s a person. Stop thinking like she’s out of your league… even though she is. For multiple reasons. Mainly alliance regulatory ones…_

Samantha heard the elevator doors behind her open. She instinctively looked over her shoulder and noticed that it was Shepard and two Turians that stepped out. Samantha immediately turned around and went into a full salute, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight of Shepard. “Commander Shepard,” she said, almost squeaked. _Oh god, pull it together, you flaming blighter._ Shepard glanced over to her, raising an eyebrow.

Samantha noticed that Shepard had received a few new scraps while on Menae. A long cut ran along her left cheek and a few scraps were just above her right eyebrow. Samantha held her salute but swallowed hard. _Alright, you git, you_ **were** _worried that Shepard wouldn’t come back_ , she thought to herself. Her heart continued fluttering in her chest while a small weight seemed to magically disappear from her shoulders. Samantha tried to not let her eyes wonder Shepard’s body again. She was noticeably sweaty, wearing an N7 tank top and tight fitting cargo pants. _Is that all she wears underneath her armor?_ Samantha pondered.

“At ease, Specialist,” Shepard said, waving a hand at Samantha as she began to walk towards her. “Is there anything I should know?”

Samantha stared a second too long as Shepard walked toward her. She noticed the she was walking with the slightest of limps. Only when Shepard cleared her throat did she respond. “Um, right. Yes, Commander,” she stuttered. She noticed the Turian with a scared mandible cross his arms and put his weight on his back leg, smirking. _Or is he frowning?_ Samantha shook her head, trying to focus. “I’ve just received word from the Asari Councilor. She’s waiting on the vid com… she mentioned something about Krogan and the War Summit?”

Shepard looked away from Samantha and clenched her jaw, letting out a loud exhale through her nose. Samantha noticed that the skin over Shepard’s temples was taut. Samantha fought the urge to ask if everything was alright, but refrained.

Shepard finally nodded, and then forced a smile to Samantha. “Thank you, Specialist.” She turned her head toward the other Turian. “Follow me, if you would, Primarch Victus.”

Samantha’s face fell ever-so-slightly at being called Specialist. _I told her to call me Samantha…_ she thought dejectedly. _Maybe she’s just being formal in front of other military personnel,_ she continued to think, trying to be optimistic.

The Turian nodded and followed Shepard out of the CIC toward the War Room. Samantha watched them walk away, decidedly trying to not stare at her Commanding Officer’s butt as she exited the CIC.

“It’s always good to watch her leave, isn’t it?” the Turian sounded from behind Samantha.

Samantha snapped her attention back to the scarred Turian. He’d situated himself next to the galaxy map, leaning on the railing to the steps leading up to the platform. This time, Samantha, without a doubt, knew that he was smirking at her.

Samantha forced a cough, trying to suppress the heat that was rising to her cheeks. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

The Turian let out a hearty laugh, rough to Samantha’s ears. “Oh c’mon. Shepard’s got the best human ass I’ve seen. Don’t be shy. You get to watch her walk in and out of the CIC every day. You can’t tell me that you **_haven’t_** stared before.”

Samantha mocked shock on her face. “I never,” she started sarcastically, trying to hide the fact that she had just been thinking about Shepard’s body. She brought a playfully offended hand up to her chest. “She’s my Commanding Officer. That would be against regulations.”

The Turian let out another laugh, a little louder and a little longer. When he stopped, he chuckled one more time. “Shepard’s never been one for regulations,” he said suggestively. Samantha tilted her head to the right, trying to understand the reference. “Where are my manners,” he said, extending his hand. _Are they hands? Or are they claws?_ Samantha thought as she moved to take it. “Garrus Vakarian. I’ve served with Shepard on two previous suicide missions.”

Samantha’s eyes went wide. “Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor,” she answered uncomfortably. _Suicide missions?!_ she thought dramatically.     

“That’s right. I was on the ground with her and Ash when she took on Saren at the Citadel. And I had her back when we flew through Omega 4 relay and destroyed the collector base,” he replied, as if knowing what was running through Samantha’s head. “Ever flown a Mako through a mass relay?” Samantha tentatively shook her head. “Ha—of course you haven’t. That’s just one of the perks when you work with Shepard: you get to live through all the crazy shit that you only read about in those human adventure comics.”

“The other perk being able to watch her ass as she walks away,” Samantha responded, without hesitation. Only after she said it did she feel her cheeks grow hot again, doubtlessly showing a rosy hue to the ever humored Turian in front of her.

“Careful,” he mocked. “She **_is_ ** your Commanding Officer.” The look in his eyes was playful and Samantha finally smiled, showing teeth. Garrus chuckled and clapped Samantha on her shoulder. “Oh, I like you. I think you’ll be just what the Commander needs.”

Samantha skeptically moved her head to the right, still looking at Garrus as he moved his hand away. “What do you mean? I’m sure she’s got plenty of crew members staring at her as she walks by.”

Garrus slowly nodded his head, standing erect from his leaning position. “Ri-ight, Traynor.” He kept smirking, almost as if he knew something that Samantha didn’t. “Anyway—if anyone needs me, I’ll be calibrating the forward guns.”

“Be sure to set them to “disintegrate reapers’ mode,” Samantha joked as he walked away.

She heard him chuckle again as he waved a hand over his shoulder as he made his way to the elevator. 

As the elevator doors closed behind him, Samantha couldn’t help but think about what he said. _You’re just what the Commander needs?_ She thought, turning back to her console. _He’s probably just teasing—I am a blithering idiot whenever she’s around._ She shook her head, trying to turn her thoughts back to work. _But what was he suggesting…Has Shepard had relations with crew members before?_ She narrowed her eyes at something she pulled up on her console, not really looking at it. _Was Shepard involved with him?_ she thought, disheartened.

* * *

Shepard ran a sling of curse words directed at the Asari Councilor as she stood being scanned in the room between the conference room and the CIC. In that moment she knew why she wasn’t ever going to be a good politician. Yes—she played it by the books, went out of her way to make sure every soldier always made it out alive, and believed in courtly justice rather than in the moment vengeance. But right now—all she wanted to do was to throw the heaviest biotic shockwave she could at the Asari Councilor.

_How can these people still be resentful for grudges that were based on instances that are hundreds of years old?_ Shepard thought, the body-scan finally finishing. She started walking forward, zipping up her recently adorned N7 hoodie. _Do they not realize that if we don’t work together, we’ll all die as the reapers pick us apart? We have to work together!_ As Shepard walked forward to the doors, she could feel her pulse in her temples. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry at another living being.

The doors to the CIC slid open and Shepard’s eyes landed on Samantha. She stood still for a moment, just looking at the back of the Specialist’s body. She felt her body begin to relax—she noticed that her hands had been balled into fists. She flexed her hands and continued walking. She went straight to the elevator. She didn’t have anything to say to her and still felt a little uneasy around her. _She probably thinks I’m an emotional ticking time bomb. And I still can’t believe I didn’t confront her about kissing me… and then leaning in to kiss me before I asked her about the retrofits. There’s something about her—no one, besides Ash, has been able to instantly calm me down like she does when I simply see her. But that was still no excuse to grab her hand…_

She fought the urge to glance one more time at Samantha’s backside as the elevator doors opened. She accidentally hit the “3” button instead of the “1” when she stepped into the elevator. She shrugged and thought going to the starboard side observatory room would be a good place to collect her thoughts.

A few crew members stopped and saluted as she passed. She gave them a friendly nod and kept going. The door to the observatory room slid open as Shepard slipped back into her thoughts. _I don’t think I even know the names of eighty percent of my crew. Samantha is the only new shipside crew member I’ve interacted with._

She glanced around the room, hoping she’d find a new crew member residing on the deck to strike up ‘get to know you’ conversation with. Her shoulders fell when the room showed to be empty. _What’s happened to you, Jane?_ _You used to make a point of getting to know every crew member on your ship. No matter if they were shipside or on the ground with you._

_Reapers happened_ , the other voice in her head responded. _Reapers showed up and started altering everything around you. Even you._

_Bullshit,_ she rebutted to herself, taking a few steps into the observatory room and coming to a stop a few feet in front of that large window.

_Oh please. Before the reapers you would have never left Anderson on Earth. You’d have stayed to fight and sent someone else to play politician. Before the reapers, you would have gone to Menae to_ **help** _their war effort, not abduct their strongest tacticians._

Shepard glared darkly at her reflection in the window. _Well the reapers change things, don’t they?_

_Do they? You didn’t let the Batarian’s change you when their slavers raided Mindoir, killing your entire family. You didn’t let the Batarian’s change you when they attacked Elysium. You didn’t let Saren and the Geth’s actions against the galaxy change you._ The voice in her head grew more and more venomous.

_The reapers are different. They’re like nothing any living being has ever seen,_ Shepard thought, shaking her head at her own glowering reflection.

_But does that mean you change your core personality to fight an impossible war?_

_It isn’t impossible! We can still win this! We just have to… to…_ Shepard sat, still facing the window. She put her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together, leaning forward. _My personality hasn’t changed._

_Sure it has. You would never have taken your frustration out on a metal wall until you bled before the reapers. You would never have let Anderson stay behind without you. You would have never let Ashley end up the way she is._

_Damnit! It isn’t like that!_

_Isn’t it? Since when do the ends justify the means, Jane?_

Shepard blinked to herself. Letting herself continue arguing with her subconscious, _What?_

_Taking Primarch Victus from Menae? What about his men? You know damn well that his squad is dead now. But you_ **needed** _Victus for Earth. So what if a few Turians die._

Shepard leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. _It isn’t like that._

_Horseshit, Jane. You know it. Pre-reaper you wouldn’t have done it. Pre-reaper you would have evacuated his whole squad! Pre-reaper you would have done the same for a squad of Batarians! But no—you left them to die. To be devoured by reaper cannibals or collected by harvesters._

Shepard made an audible groan, vocalizing her frustration with the argument in her head. She leaned her body back, resting her head on the top of the couch she sat on, leaving her hands over her face. _What do you want from me?! What do you fucking want me to do?!_

Her mind was quiet. Shepard dragged her hands down her face, groaning again and then letting out a heavy sigh. “What do you want me to do,” she whispered quietly, feeling the pit in her stomach grow dark again as she balled her fists in her lap.

“Commander…is everything alright?”

Shepard snapped up, whirling her head around towards the door. _I didn’t even hear it open._ She felt herself stop breathing when she noticed Samantha cautiously standing in the entry. _How is it she always shows up when I am at my worst?_ Shepard thought, feeling herself tense in the shoulders. Samantha was standing there, an apprehensive expression on her face, datapad clutched to her chest. Even in her simple Alliance uniform, she still looked stunning to Shepard. _I’m still in my sweaty clothes from running on Menae_ , she noticed, temporarily looking away from Samantha. _I should have changed…_

“Should I come back another time?” Samantha said, moving her body slowly to motion her leaving.

Noticing that she hadn’t responded to Samantha’s first inquiry, Shepard smiled and shook her head. “No, no,” she blurted. “God knows I could use a distraction." She looked at Samantha again, this time making eye contact with her. She still looked uneasy.

“Well, _usually_ I provide fairly good distractions,” she said jokingly, warranting Shepard’s smile to deepen. “But I’m afraid that I’ve come with mission related news,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

Shepard slowly closed her eyes, and then let out a slow breath. She didn’t know what she’d been hoping Samantha would say. Then she had a thought. “Okay—I’ll listen to war related news for…five minutes,” she said, looking down at her Omni-tool to check the time. “After that, you’ll distract me by suffering through my “getting to know you” conversation.”

Samantha looked amusedly taken aback. “ _Getting to know you_ conversation?” she responded skeptically.

Shepard nodded. “I used to have it with all of my crew, back on the original Normandy. I figure since we’ve got some flying time ahead of us, why not start it back up,” she finished, turning her posture away from the door to face the window again. She glanced down at her Omni-tool. “You now have four and a half minutes,” Shepard teased.

* * *

“Specialist Traynor, I’ve completed the analysis you asked for,” EDI’s voice sounded through a speaker unit next to Samantha’s console.

“Perfect,” Samantha responded, closing out of the intel she’d just finished analyzing. “So, what did you find?”

“It’s unusual. There is a coded signal within the Turian response vessel that emulates something that I have seen before.”

“Seen,” Samantha responded, raising a playful eyebrow. “Can AI’s _see?_ ”

“It is a figure of speech. Although I do monitor the surveillance throughout the entire ship. So in theory, yes—I see everything,” EDI responded back. Samantha chucked before EDI continued. “Back to our original topic of conversation; I have run across this same code before, when working with Shepard on the Cerberus mission to a derelict reaper. The Turian signal is fake.”

“Wait—a derelict reaper mission?” Samantha paled.

“Yes, Specialist Traynor. The Illusive Man faked a Turian signal to get Shepard to agree to investigate the derelict reaper base.”

Samantha felt her eyes grow wide. “Why did the Illusive Man fake the signal?”

“His motives were unclear. Commander Shepard was exceptionally displeased when she found out what the Illusive Man had done once I brought it to her attention that the signal was a fake.”

_I can’t imagine why…_ Samantha thought. “So—then Grissom Academy isn’t being evacuated by a Turian transport, are they?”

“The accuracy of my analysis of the signal being fake is 99.98%, Specialist Traynor. I can run it again, if you would prefer.”

“No,” Samantha responded immediately. “I think that that is enough to take to Shepard.”

“Yes. Commander Shepard would be most interested in this information. Would you like me to relay the information to her?”

Samantha almost said yes, but stopped herself. It was a chance to talk to Shepard again, hypothetically alone. _Maybe I can wriggle out of her what Garrus meant…_ she thought, thinking back to Garrus’ comment about Shepard’s disregard for regulations. “No thanks, EDI. I’ll tell her,” Samantha finally responded. _You just want to get her alone you dog you,_ the other part of her brain joshed.

_Oh shut it. So what if I do?_ She thought back, thinking nothing of having playful banter with herself in her head. “Is Shepard in her quarters, EDI?”

“Negative. Commander Shepard is in the starboard observatory room.”

“Thanks,” Samantha said. She transferred a few bits of key information about the signal that EDI sent to her to her datapad. Datapad in hand, she made her way to the elevator. She didn’t have to wait long for the elevator to open and walked in. _I wonder what Shepard is doing in the observatory room._ No one got off of the elevator and no one was queued to join her. She hit “3” and the doors closed. _She’s probably catching up with Garrus…which means that I won’t get her alone._

_Why do you want her alone, hmm Traynor?_ her subconscious teased.

_Oh shut it._ She couldn’t believe how taken aback she’d been by what Garrus had said earlier. _I really don’t know anything about her…she could be a cock loving heterosexual for all I know,_ she thought, her face turning into a frown that small children make at food they don’t like. The elevator door opened and she stepped out, making a right toward the port observation room. _What does it even matter, Traynor. She’s your Commanding Officer and you haven’t even known her a week. You’re in a bloody war. Even if she were interested in other women, she’s too preoccupied with the reapers to probably even **think** about intimacy. _

Samantha paused before entering the observation room. She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. _Alright—this stops here. No more thinking about Shepard like that. She’s your Commanding Officer. You’re an Alliance soldier. You’re at war._ She took in a deep breath, the inhale raising her chest. As she exhaled, letting her chest fall, she nodded and took a step closer to the door, causing the motion sensor to initiate the doors to slide open.

She walked in and saw Shepard sitting, alone, on a couch facing the observatory window, her head leaning back on the couch with her hands over her face. Samantha was about to announce herself when Shepard let out a frustrated groan that sounded like she was drawing out the word “fuck” while she seemingly growled as she moved her hands from her face. Samantha thought she heard Shepard say something else, but couldn’t quite catch it.

“Commander,” Samantha started timidly. “Is everything alright?”

Shepard sat upright in a quick, fluid motion, turning her head around immediately to look at the door. Samantha saw that she hadn’t changed since boarding the Normandy from Menae, still wearing her N7 tank top, but was now also wearing an N7 hoodie. _Why does the N7 faction get cool membership clothing?_ she thought, forcing herself to think of something other than how attractive she found Shepard’s vivid green eyes; she brought her datapad up to her chest. Shepard was looking at her, but not at her face. She seemed to be lost in thought as she faced Samantha.

Samantha glanced around to room, thinking maybe she’d interrupted a conversation but found that Shepard was alone. “Should I come back another time?” Samantha said, moving slightly towards the door.

Shepard shook her head, smiling. “No, no,” she said suddenly. “God knows I could use a distraction.” Shepard finally looked her in the eyes, still smiling.

_Keep it together, Traynor._ She thought to herself giving a weak smile to Shepard. _Remember, she’s your CO and distraction doesn’t mean anything sexual._ She felt her cheeks become warm. _And you swore that off, you hopeless git!_ “Well, _usually_ I provide fairly good distractions,” she said a little more suggestively that she had intended. She noticed that Shepard’s smile deepened, spreading into her eyes. “But I’m afraid that I’ve come with mission related news,” Samantha continued, shifting uncomfortably.

Shepard closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She looked disappointed for a split second before her eyes opened again, a smile still showing in her eyes.“Okay—I’ll listen to war related news for…five minutes,” she said, looking down at her Omni-tool. “After that, you’ll distract me by suffering through my “getting to know you” conversation.”

Samantha smiled, but turned her head to the side and angled slightly away from Shepard. “ _Getting to know you_ conversation?” she responded, trying to stifle any inappropriate commentary from her subconscious.

Shepard nodded. “I used to have it with all of my crew, back on the original Normandy. I figure since we’ve got some flying time ahead of us, why not start it back up,” she finished, turning to face the window again. “You now have four and a half minutes,” Shepard teased.

“Right,” Samantha started, moving awkwardly towards the couch that Shepard was sitting on. Shepard sat there, both arms extended out on the back side of the couch. If Samantha sat down, Shepard would inadvertently have her arms over her shoulders. She stayed standing. “I found something while scanning Alliance channels. Grissom academy is requesting help.”

Shepard’s face contorted, looking puzzled. “I thought the war would close most schools.”

Samantha shifted, extending her hand with the datapad to Shepard after pulling up a file. “Grissom Academy is more specialized than a normal school.” Shepard leaned forward and took the datapad, looking at it for a moment as Samantha continued. “It’s home to some of the smartest students humanity has to offer. Their Ascension Project helps gifted young biotics and is the best training facility in the galaxy for human biotics. If it had been open twenty years ago, I bet you’d have been there.”

Shepard smirked as though she was about to make a joke, but refrained from doing so, her eyebrows instead relaxing as she put her hand with the datapad down into her lap. “I sent a young man named David Archer there a few months back. I guess I am just surprised they’re still open,” she said, looking back up at Samantha, waiting for her to continue.

“Some of their work has Alliance support. That might be why they stayed,” Samantha suggested. _C’mon, Traynor, get to the point._

“I’ll be damned if the reapers harm alliance students. What can we do?” Shepard asked, crossing her left leg over her right at the knee, looking only slightly raged by the idea that something was harming innocent students.

The sudden change in Shepard’s demeanor made Samantha bring her hands together, starting to fidget with her fingers. “Well, a Turian evac transport responded to their distress call, so normally I’d say we don’t _need_ to do anything. But something seemed off in the Turian response time. It just happened too quickly. So I had EDI perform an analysis,” she paused, forcing herself to put her hands down at her sides to stop herself from fidgeting. “It’s fake. EDI thinks it is Cerberus. She said the faked Turian signal was similar to one that lured you to a collector ship…?”

Shepard let out a forced, short laugh and shook her head slightly from side to side. “That’s a long story.” She then looked at the window, and said quietly, “First Mars, and now a school? What the hell is Cerberus after…”

Samantha crossed her arms over her stomach, still fighting the urge to occupy her hands. Typically when she was divulging intel, she was at her console and pulling up schematics and diagrams. Standing in front of her relaxed looking Commanding Officer was starting to make her nervous again. _You could sit down next to her, but then that would still be awkward._ She took in a deep breath and continued. “In any event, whoever faked the signal wants us to think Grissom Academy’s being evacuated. But I believe they’re still in danger.”

Shepard smiled up at Samantha. She then patted the seat cushion next to her, inviting her to sit down. The couch was a fairly decent size; it could probably fit three or four adults. But Shepard had patted the cushion closest to Samantha, which also happened to be the cushion at the end of the couch. Shepard was on the cushion directly next to it. _If I sit down, there’s a six to one odd that I’ll make a fool of myself again,_ Samantha thought.

“Good catch,” Shepard said. She patted the cushion again after Samantha didn’t move and motioned her to sit with her eyes. “Maybe you belong here, after all.”

Not wanting to disobey a potential order from her CO, Samantha moved to sit down. She felt her heart stop briefly at the last words from Shepard. She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with her left hand. “If this really is Cerberus, hopefully this operation is something worth investigating. It could be simple disinformation—”

Shepard put a reassuring hand on Samantha’s right forearm, interrupting her. “Traynor… Good catch.” She said, looking Samantha straight in the eyes, tilting her head to the side as she smiled.

Samantha moved her left hand from her ear to behind her neck, nervously rubbing the base of her skull. “Thank you, Commander.” She knew that her face was starting to blush; she could feel it in her cheeks. She tried to hold Shepard’s gaze but couldn’t bring herself to stare into her stunning green eyes. They were so welcoming and inviting. She didn’t want a repeat of the other day. Shepard’s hand lingered for a moment longer than Samantha knew to be professional, but she didn’t mind. _So this swearing off your Commanding Officer is going to be harder than you thought,_ she thought as she noticed how close their legs were to also touching.

Shepard suddenly straightened her posture, moving her hand from Samantha’s arm, and spoke to the ceiling. “EDI, patch me through to Joker.

“What’s up, Commander?” Moreau responded informally. Samantha knew that everyone referred to him as Joker, but she’d made it her personal vendetta to call him Moreau for the time being, for lying to her about EDI being an AI. _And he isn’t all that funny,_ she thought, bringing her hand down to her lap, cupping it with her other hand.

“We’ve got a change of plans,” Shepard started, resituating herself on the couch. “We’re headed to Grissom Academy.”

“Really? Why are we headed to a school?” Moreau responded. “You need a brush up on how to throw someone with your magic biotic powers of destruction or something?”

Shepard let out a laugh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “That’s right. And you’ll be the first one I’ll test it out on.”

“Oh, Commander I feel honored,” he responded, sounding quite touched. “But in all seriousness, we’ll be at Grissom in roughly 13 hours.”

“Commander Shepard,” EDI started. “Dr. Chakwas also suggests that you get some sleep while we’re traveling to our next destination.”

Shepard scoffed. “Thank you. That’s all.”

The overhead intercom cut out, as though EDI knew the Shepard didn’t want to continue the conversation.

Samantha sat there for a few moments, watching Shepard be lost in her own thoughts. _I wonder if there’s bad blood between her and Dr. Chakwas,_ Samantha thought as the time passed and Shepard’s expression grew darker.  After a few more moments, she finally asked, “Do you need to be alone, Commander?”

Shepard blinked hard and snapped her attention directly toward Samantha.“Wha—no,” she started, bringing her right hand up to her neck and rubbed it for a moment. To her surprise, Samantha noticed that the hand was completely healed. Before she had a chance to comment on it, she noticed Shepard smile and leaned sideways towards her, making their shoulders touch briefly. “Someone should be here in case I decide to take my frustrations out on the observation window.”

“Ri—ight, because that’s way less scary than a interior metal wall,” Samantha said with a smile and then immediately regretted saying it. “I mean—I didn’t—”

Shepard laughed. Actually laughed. Samantha stopped her sputtering and just looked at the woman in front of her. Her shoulder shook as she chuckled. Small lines formed around her half open eyes. Her lips curled over white teeth that rivaled Samantha’s. Finally she stopped, letting off one last lingering chuckle and moved the datapad from her lap to the seat cushion to her right. “Yeah—I’m sure EDI would be pretty upset if I caused the pressure in the ship to go haywire. Anyway—” she shifted her body to look at Samantha, bringing her left leg up onto the cushion and her left arm on to the back of the couch. Glancing at her omni-tool, she said, “And you have another minute left.”

Samantha sat up straighter, even though her posture was fairly erect as it was. She shook her head, flattening her hands in her lap. “That’s all I came in with. Unless you want me to give you a fifty second lecture on GUI interfaces.”

They shared another smile. “I’ll pass, I think,” Shepard responded. “So, ready for my getting to know you Q and A?”

“I guess,” Samantha replied, shifting in her seat. “Unless it’ll hurt… then I’ll have to pass.”

Shepard playfully pursed her lips, mocking a thoughtful face. “It only hurts on occasion.” She winked.

Samantha fought the urge to bite her lip. “Alright, do your worst, Commander.”

“Oh, I will,” Shepard responded playfully.

Samantha couldn’t help but notice how friendly Shepard was being. It was so drastically different than the previous interactions that she’d had with her on the CIC. _Maybe this is what Garrus was referring to. Are Commanding Officers supposed to socialize with their crew?_

Samantha watched Shepard as she thought of what to ask first. Shepard’s eyebrows rose suddenly, and then asked “Where are you from originally?”

Samantha relaxed into the arm rest of the couch. “A colony in the Terminus systems, actually. Though I studied on Earth at Oxford,” she added thinking that Shepard was referring more to her English accent than she was to really wanting the details of where she was from. That and Samantha wanted to avoid mentioning that she hailed from Horizon and that Shepard had saved her family from being abducted my Collectors. _Yea…that’s a conversation to save for later._ “My parents were from London. They loved Earth, but they wanted the freedom a colony life could offer. If they’d stayed in London, I imagine they’d be dead right now, though,” she finished, her previous smile dissipating on her lips as she looked out the observatory window.

“A lot of people back on earth are still alive and counting on us,” Shepard reassured her.

“Quite true, Commander.”

“Alright, so you’re a colony kid. How’d you land in the military, anyway?” Shepard asked quickly, trying to change the subject from Earth.

Samantha continued to look out the window—it was a way to see Shepard without looking at her. The window was almost a mirror against the black background scattered with stars behind it. Shepard was leaning towards Samantha, obviously engaged in their conversation. _She seems genuinely interested in what I have to say…_ “Well… my family didn’t have money for university. When the Alliance saw my aptitude scores, they offered me a full scholarship. I served my required years after graduation and decided to stay. I really like the challenges of the lab,” she said, her mind slowly drifting back to the R &D lab. _God, I miss it._ She felt her face drop and saw that Shepard was looking at her quizzically. “Al-Although I’m sure I’ll grow to love front-line service as well,” she added hastily.  

 “Front line service is definitely different. It takes some getting used to,” Shepard’s reflection nodded. “So, you worked in alliance R&D?”

“Yes,” Samantha answered quickly.  “You’d think quantum entanglement would make communication easy, but imagine incorporating multiple incoming sources and then networking them with extrapolations of time-lagged data to construct a coherent situational GUI. It’s an exciting challenge… um for me, anyway,” she finished, looking down into her lap, slightly embarrassed.

“I don’t think I understood half of what you just said,” Shepard laughed.

Samantha turned and finally faced Shepard again and smiled. “That’s why you hold the guns and I stay shipside.”

Shepard returned the smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“So, what about you, Commander?” Samantha asked, still a little embarrassed with how much of a squib she felt like in front of Shepard.

“What about me?” Shepard retorted.

“Well, where are you from?”

Shepard smiled, shifted again in her seat. “Nope—this is a getting to know **_you_** conversation,” she said, pointing her forefinger towards Samantha. “We can talk about me later.”

Samantha swallowed hard, feeling slightly awkward to simply talk about herself. _I guess I won’t get to ask about what Garrus mentioned… Damn._ “Alright then… what else do you want to know?”

“How are your first few days on the Normandy going?”

Samantha shrugged, grateful that the question wasn’t aimed towards where she grew up. “I’m still trying to get my bearings. When I was working on the Normandy’s upgrades I left at the end of the day. I didn’t even have a toothbrush or a change of clothing until I made some emergency purchases on the citadel.”

Shepard’s expression turned serious. “Next time you need something, just ask. You’re not alone here.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, commander,” Samantha said quickly. “I’m sure you have larger concerns.”

“We can put in a requisition order.”

Samantha bit her lips, and then leaned in towards Shepard. “My toothbrush is a cison pro mark 4. Is uses a tiny mass effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums.” She was close enough to smell a slightly salty aroma emanating from Shepard’s pale skin. She cupped a hand around her mouth, trying to ignore the sensation to figure out the other scents mingled into the salty one and whispered, “It costs 6,000 credits.”

Shepard made a silent ‘oh’ face. “Okay, yeah. You’re on your own with that.”

“In any event,” Samantha started as she leaned upright and brought her voice back to a normal volume. “I really do appreciate you giving me the chance to stay. I thought for sure the other day you were going to kick me off of the ship.”

“What? Why do you think that,” Shepard asked, squinting her eyes ever so slightly at Samantha.

Samantha noticed Shepard’s cheeks redden, but just so. If she hadn’t have been so close to her she would have never noticed. “Well… you just seemed rather… erm… displeased when EDI requested I stay aboard the Normandy.”

“Oh, never mind that. Everything in the past few days has had me on edge, I guess,” Shepard responded nonchalantly.

“I can imagine,” was all that Samantha could say.

Shepard’s expression hardened and unfocused. _Shit… quick… say something funny!_ She thought desperately as Shepard’s focus shifted to a plane that wasn’t the present. But Samantha’s mind was blank, unable to think of one simple joke. On a whim, Samantha tentatively put her right hand on Shepard left calf, as it was still resting atop the seat cushion. “Commander… are you sure that you’re alright,” Shepard blinked, her focus back on Samantha. Looking into her eyes, she continued, “I meant what I said about if you ever need someone to talk to, that I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Shepard briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s alright, Traynor. I don’t want to worry you with my problems.” When Shepard looked Samantha in the eye again, her demeanor had completely changed. It seemed similar to how she was when Samantha had first walked into the observatory room.

Samantha turned her body towards Shepard, putting her other hand next to the one already on Shepard’s calf. “You wouldn’t be worrying me, honest. Sometimes it is just helpful to have an ear to borrow,” She said, a little too seriously for her taste. “Unless the reapers have a self destruct function when they hear someone talk about feelings—if that’s the case, by all means save it for the reapers!”

* * *

“In any event, I really do appreciate you giving me the chance to stay. I thought for sure the other day you were going to kick me off of the ship.”

“What? Why do you think that,” Shepard asked, shocked at the change in conversation. _I mean, I did want to boot you off of the ship, but it was because I thought that I’d be too emotionally attached to you or that you would rat me out to the rest of the crew. Or that—_

Samantha responded, cutting off Shepard’s racing thoughts. “Well… you just seemed rather… erm… displeased when EDI requested I stay aboard the Normandy.”

“Oh, never mind that,” Shepard responded. “Everything in the past few days has had me on edge, I guess,” she said, trying to calm her thoughts down.

“I can imagine,” was all that Samantha could say.

Before she could stop herself, her thoughts reverted back to before Samantha entering the Observatory Room. _You’ve changed. You let the reapers get the better of you already and you’re not even a week into this war._

_Stop… I can still be me. I won’t let the reapers change me._

_Oh really? Considering they already have started, how do you plan on avoiding it?_

_Just stop. I don’t need you telling me what or who I am._

_Ri—ight. Because ignoring the facts will make everything go away._

“Commander…” Samantha’s voice sounded, breaking through Shepard’s thoughts. Shepard refocused, seeing Samantha brown eyes full of worry as she felt her hand tentatively touch her left calf, as she had it resting up on the seat cushion. “Are you sure that you’re alright? I meant what I said about if you ever need someone to talk to, that I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Shepard briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s alright, Traynor. I don’t want to worry you with my problems.”

_Pft, you don’t have problems, Jane. You have a war on your hands. You have the responsibility of the entire galaxies fate resting on your shoulders. You have a job._

Samantha moved on the couch, turning her body towards Shepard. Shepard felt Samantha’s free hand move to her leg alongside the other. “You wouldn’t be worrying me, honest,” Samantha said sincerely. “Sometimes it is just helpful to have an ear to borrow… Unless, of course, the reapers have a self destruct function when they hear someone talk about feelings—if that’s the case, by all means save it for the reapers!”

Shepard smiled, showing teeth as she looked at Samantha. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

Samantha shrugged. “It’s a thing they teach at Oxford. In all serious situations, tell an inappropriate joke. Get pity laughs. Avoid tense or awkward moments. It’s effective about seventy five percent of the time.” She smiled.

They smiled at each other for a moment longer before Shepard stifled a yawn. Samantha looked down at her omni-tool. “Oh, look at the time. I didn’t realize that it was that late already.”

Shepard glanced down at her own omni-tool. [21:26 AST] “Well shit. I guess I should try and get some sleep, like Dr. Chakwas instructed.”

Samantha stood, nodding. “Always listen to the doctor on duty.”

“Especially when they compare you to a prune,” Shepard joked.

“Especially then,” Samantha responded without missing a beat as they both referred to the note that Samantha had left on Shepard’s nightstand a few nights prior. “I hear those doctors are the most prestigious and highly regarded doctors in all the known universes.”

Shepard smiled to herself and Samantha leaned over to grab the datapad that Shepard had placed on the couch next to her. She straightened up and then went into a full salute. “Good night, Commander.”

Shepard waved her hand at her. “There’s no need to salute me when we’re alone, Samantha.”

“Oh, um. Right,” She replied awkwardly, bringing her hand back down to her datapad. “Well, good night then… Shepard.”

“Good night, Samantha,” Shepard responded, smiling ever so slightly.

Samantha nodded and then turned to make her way toward the door. Shepard watched her walk away in the reflection of the window. She was still baffled how the innocent looking, honey skinned comm. Specialist could make her feel so at ease by being so informal and joking around her.  Before she could really filter what she was thinking, Shepard stood and walked a few steps towards the door. “Samantha, wait.” Samantha stopped two steps before the door and turned around. “One more thing before you go… will you promise me something?”

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. “It depends on what you’re asking,” she replied skeptically.

Shepard walked up to her, stopping just shy of an arm’s length away. She took in a few careful breathes, trying to solidify what she wanted to say before saying it. “Don’t… don’t let this war change who you are.”

“What do you mean, Commander?”

Shepard fought against the voice in the back of her head, refusing to let it pipe in. “War changes people. Sometimes for the better, but most often times it changes them for the worse.” _Like it’s doing to you._ Shepard took in breath, letting it out slowly and then looked Samantha straight in the eyes. “You’re perfect, just as you are. So don’t let this war change you. Promise me that.”

Samantha opened her mouth and let out a shaky breath. “Commander, as much as I would love to say nothing can change who I am, this war is pretty impactful. I’m not sure if that is something that I can pro—”

“Promise me,” Shepard interrupted. She had the urge to grab Samantha’s hands in her own, but refrained. “Please.”

Samantha blinked a few times, her expression falling from confusion into a look that Shepard couldn’t place. She held Shepard’s gaze, taking in another slow breath. Finally she nodded. “I promise.”

Shepard nodded, narrowing her eyebrows. “Good,” was all that she could say.

Samantha smiled at her one last time, gave a friendly nod and then turned to leave the room. Shepard didn’t want the evening’s conversation to end. Truth be told, she wasn’t planning on sleeping. There was too much to do, to plan for.

Before she let herself fall back into her thoughts, she counted to ten, slowly. Once she reached ten, she took in a deep breath and let it out and slowly as she could. Nodding to herself, she began to walk out of the observatory room and headed straight towards the elevator. After pushing the “1” button, she continued to count. The last thing she wanted was to be consumed by her thoughts again, especially when she was headed to her quarters to be alone.

As she walked into her cabin, she made a direct line towards her desk, pulling up a stool to her console. She had the planned to try and look at some of the data that Samantha had extrapolated about Grissom when she noticed that she had a new email sitting in her inbox. With a curious brow, she clicked on the message. For a brief moment, all the weight of the war lifted from her shoulders.

It was from Ashley.

She was alive.


	5. Sweet Cheeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that in the fight scenes that are in this chapter, I shied away from the typical biotic powers that are assigned to the adepts. I have built my Shepard to be a biotic juggernaut, and I think that if you’re solely a biotic user, you can do it all! So there you have it. I hope that lessens any confusion later on.

The way that Jack looked at her students reminded Shepard of how their relationship had ended up. The beginning had been rough, as Shepard tried to be the overtly friendly Commanding Officer. Jack hadn’t taken to it and thought Shepard was an “Alliance brown nosing pussy,” her words exactly. Eventually they found a middle ground (after Shepard had convinced her to spare the life of Aresh and helped her blow up Cerberus base on Pragia) and they actually became oddly close. Shepard would go down to Jack’s hidey hole on the engineering deck with a bottle of some cheap alcohol after missions and they’d talk; it was never serious stuff, and they never drank enough to really do any damage—just enough to loosen up. Usually they just talked biotic shop talk with playful insults left and right, every once in a while getting into the grey area of Jack’s past.

Throughout her entire time working with Cerberus, it was Jack who had kept her honest. Jack was Shepard’s constant reminder of how Cerberus thought of the galactic human agenda: They were the top proprietors of “the ends justify the means,” a motto that Shepard vehemently abhorred. Even though Jack was harsh, rough around the edges, and often times a huge pain in the ass, Shepard had grown fond of her over the few months that they’d worked together. She’d even go as far to say that she loved Jack like the little sister she never had. She made the mistake of telling that to her once, shortly before she handed the Normandy back over to the Alliance; Jack responded with a biotic fist to her shoulder and a loud declaration of how much of a pussy she was, her favorite insult for Shepard. It had stung a little, the punch, but the look on Jack’s face told her that she had felt the same but just didn’t know how to express such feelings.

It had been tough to say goodbye to her when Shepard finally returned to the Alliance, accepting the punishment she had to take for her actions in Bahak System—apparently her warning to the batarian colonies hadn’t cleared the reaper artifacts interference and she’d wiped out the system by running an asteroid into the mass relay. Completely decimating an entire system was something she was lucky she hadn’t been court marshaled and put to death for. Jack had originally been mad at Shepard for turning the Normandy in, telling her to turn pirate and roam the galaxy with her. But being around Shepard for so long, Jack had started to grow a little softer around the edges and eventually accepted that Shepard had to do the right thing, given the circumstance.

Shepard was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that Jack was a teacher, teaching young human biotics. She was even more surprised by how much she noticed Jack cared about her kids. She was extremely possessive of them, swearing to slaughter any Cerberus trooper that even thought about laying a hand on them. Shepard went so far to say that Jack loved the kids, with how much of a hard time she gave them; especially Rodriguez—it was similar to how Jack used to insult Shepard.

They had all made it back to the Normandy without incident, aside from having to escape in a Cerberus shuttle. Shepard had taken a great deal of pleasure by spacing the shuttle once they were far enough away from the academy. Jack had convinced her to put an explosive in it and then they ran up to the observatory deck with the students and some crew members to watch the explosion. The students had cheered, mimicking some of Jack’s crude antics, but everyone was happy and relatively unscathed.

The students were all currently being checked by Dr. Chakwas and had been given energy bars and juice from the mess hall. Shepard leaned against the wall by the kitchen next to Jack, arms loosely crossed over her stomach; the two just watching the students interacting with each other. Some of them looked happy to simply be eating and to be alive. Others were animatedly recounting a biotic throw or singularity that they’d thrown at a Cerberus trooper and how far they’d made them fly. Two of the boys were trying to say that they had made one fly farther than the other had.

Shepard smiled, watching them all. _I remember having counting competitions with Garrus, back when we were fighting Geth. That smug bastard never could admit defeat to a biotic,_ Shepard thought happily. Shepard glanced at Jack: she was leaning against the wall on her right shoulder, left hand across her stomach while her fingers hung off of a belt loop, her right hand up by her mouth, chewing her thumb nail. She was looking past Shepard into the med bay. Shepard raised an eyebrow and turned her head to see what she was looking at. Rodriguez was sitting atop an exam table while Dr. Chakwas as bent over, presumably inspecting the gunshot wound to her arm.

Shepard looked from the med bay back to Jack. She had to admit that she liked the change of attire and hair style. It seemed to fit her new outlook on life, having a squadron of kids to look after and all. _She looks like a worried parent,_ Shepard thought, smiling _._ She leaned over, gently bumping Jack’s chest with her shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”

Jack blinked, moving her head and focusing on Shepard as if she’d been startled. “What?”

Shepard smiled. “You’re worried about Rodriguez,” she said, motioning towards the med bay with her eyebrows. “She’s in the best hands she could possibly be in. She’ll be fine, so stop worrying.”

“Screw you, Shepard. I’m not worried,” Jack spat, her eyebrows narrowing. “It’s what she gets for not keeping her barrier up.”

Shepard let her smile turn into a quiet laugh. “Ri—ight. Face it, your hard, badass exterior has been cracked by these kids. You wouldn’t be chewing your thumb nail off if you weren’t worried about her.”

Jack immediately brought her hand down from her mouth, frowning.

Shepard smiled again, gently punching Jack’s shoulder with her hand, pushing her off balance. “You’ve gone soft, Jack. I’m impressed.”

Jack moved her foot, correcting her balance. “Soft? Fuck you, Shepard,” Jack said playfully, returning a punch to Shepard’s shoulder. It was a gesture that Shepard associated with their sibling like relationship. She brought a hand up to where Jack had made contact and mocked being in pain. Jack sneered at her. “So what if I have. These kids are the only thing keeping me useful.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about being useful to anyone?”

“After working with you, I feel like I have to be a part of something bigger. You know, do my part to make this fucked up galaxy a better place. Your Alliance brown nosing rubbed off, I guess,” Jack shrugged, shaking her head. “Before I met your sorry ass, I would have happily started pilfering frigates again. But nope—here I am, teaching the next generation of badasses.”

Shepard laughed quietly, sounding more like forcing air through her nose than actual laughter. “These kids are damn lucky.”

“God damn right they are,” Jack said, pushing away from the wall to stand in front of and face Shepard. “Before me, these kids didn’t even know how to throw someone with their biotics.”

“Screw you ma’am. We could too,” one of the male students, who had been comparing distances, playfully retorted.

“Right, because making an old ladies skirt blow up like a passing wind is considered a biotic throw, Prangley,” Jack fired back, turning towards the male student. “Now shut your face and finish your energy bar.” Jack turned back toward Shepard, a defined smile etched onto her face. “Like I said, these kids would be lost without me.”

Shepard nodded slowly. “I don’t doubt that,” she said, her voice sounded more depressing than she meant it to.

Before Jack had the chance to respond, the med bay doors opened. Rodriguez and Dr. Chakwas walked out together. Rodriguez looked a little embarrassed, but the other students immediately started clambering towards her.

“Your first battle scar? That’s freaking sweet!”

“Did it hurt?”

“I wish I had gotten an injury to brag about.”

Jack turned around to the commotion of her students. “Hey—give the unicorn some breathing space,” she yelled, starting to make her way over. The students parted as Jack approached. Rodriguez looked down, as if she was trying to avoid Jack’s gaze. The confidence she’d gained from the student’s encouragements seemed to be slipping away as she shied away from Jack. “So—what’d we learn about your barrier, Rodriguez?” Jack asked harshly, stopping a foot away from the young female student.

“Always keep it up, ma’am,” she responded, still not looking at Jack.

Jack gave a curt nod. “You’re damn right,” she said. Shepard almost gasped when Jack then stepped in close to Rodriguez and pulled her into a tight hug; Shepard bet that her expression mimicked the look of surprise on Rodriguez’s face. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. If you do, I’ll throw you so hard you’ll be wishing a gunshot wound was all you’d taken.” Jack was trying to sound tough, but it came through more compassionately than any other emotion as she gripped the young girl to her, one arm tightly around her waist while the other hand was buried in the girl’s hair.

Rodriguez’s face finally relaxed and she hugged Jack back, burying her face into Jack’s neck. She said something, but Shepard couldn’t hear it.

Shepard stared, her jaw hanging open. _I never thought_ **Jack** _would be the one to change for the better during this war._

“Who died,” Shepard heard Garrus say as he walked out of the forward battery room and noticed the scene in the mess hall.

Shepard shook her head. “No one, Jack’s just gone soft.”

“I see that.”

“I heard that, you fuckers!” Jack said, releasing Rodriguez from her matronly hug and turning around to face them, wiping a casual hand across her face. Shepard eyed her, knowing that Jack had wiped away a tear.

“Aw, c’mon Jack,” Garrus started, leaning against the kitchen counter. “If you can turn soft, then maybe we can convince the reapers the error of their ways and get them to leave peacefully.”

Shepard tried to stifle her laughter, but only proceeded to shake her shoulders and make her face turn red.

“Alright, Shepard,” Jack started, turning back to her small crowd of students. “Who wants to see me kick the crap out of the **_legendary_** Commander Shepard?”

The students started to cheer. Shepard stood upright, pointing to Garrus. “Whoa, whoa wait! He’s the one who made the joke. Kick his ass!” Shepard playfully deflected.

Jack shook her head. “Naw—the poor bastard has to walk around with that face. I don’t want to injure his pride any more than it already is.”

There was a collective “ooooh” from the students. Garrus snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yup—this face still gets more action than you ever will, Zero.”

Another wave of “ooooh” came from the students as they watched the two adults throw playful insults back and forth like a tennis match.

This continued for a few minutes, Garrus and Jack firing witty comebacks as quickly as the next could throw them. Shepard stood there, grinning, taking in all of the laughter from the students, and letting herself laugh at a few of the lines (especially the one fired by Jack about Garrus using “Calibrate” as a code word for masturbation). Dr. Chakwas stood behind the students, a regal hand covering her mouth to hide the fact that she was smiling, too. Liara had also come out of her room, holding a datapad and stopped dead when she noticed Garrus and Jack’s banter. She stood there, smiling, watching, and letting herself laugh on occasion.

_God I miss this,_ Shepard thought, glad to have joyous sounds of people around her. Her attention finally focused back on Jack when she blurted, “Right because calibrating big guns is more impressive than demolishing a whole space frigate with my pure biotic prowess.” Before Garrus responded, Jack continued. “But I’m still gonna kick your ass, Shepard.”

Shepard laughed. “I think you have a better chance of kissing Garrus than kicking my ass.”

Another wave from the students egged Jack on. “Oh yea!? Seriously kids, who wants to see me smear the wall with Shepard’s face?”

The students cheered.

“Yeah!”

 “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“C’mon, Commander! We wanna see what all the hype is about!”

“Jack’s said you’re like the best biotic in the galaxy!”

And more that Shepard couldn’t quite catch as they were all speaking at once. She thought about it for a moment, staring in Jack’s playfully determined eyes. _Bah—what the hell,_ she thought as she grinned, pushing off of the wall and walked up to Jack, getting within arm’s reach of her. “Alright. You’re on, sweet cheeks,” she started, using a nickname that she knew Jack despised. Jack pursed her lips, but Shepard continued, stepping in closer to her, leaving only a few inches between their faces. “But don’t expect me to kiss your ass after I’ve pinned it to the floor.” Shepard pretended to be serious, feebly forcing the laugher out of her voice. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile and betray her attempted acting.

Jack returned the smile as the students went into an uproar of cheering. Jack nodded to her, as if to say thank you. Shepard nodded back with a wink, letting herself grin.

“Well then it’s settled,” Garrus chimed from behind. “Time to finally see these to ladies go at it.”

“Dammit, why does all the cool shit happen while I’m stuck in the cockpit,” Joker’s voice sounded from the intercom.

“To the shuttle bay, bi—kids!” Jack yelled, correcting herself from saying “bitches” as she shot her hand up into the air while extending only her forefinger.

The students all began moving at once, their excitement showing in their hurried steps to get to the elevators. Jack let them rush ahead, hanging back and grabbing Shepard by the arm. “Thanks,” she said softly, only for Shepard to hear.

Shepard pulled her into a side hug, only for Dr. Chakwas, Liara, and Garrus to see as all the students were clambering over each other to get to the elevator. “Any time,” Shepard said before Jack pushed her off, a smile still lingering in her eyes. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“Ha! I won’t. Can’t let the students see me lose to an alliance pussy like you,” Jack said, hitting Shepard’s shoulder.

“Oh—is that how we’re going to play it,” Shepard retorted, firing off a shot to Jack’s shoulder.

“Now, now ladies. The fight can’t start here,” Garrus said, walking towards the two women. “Unless this is going to turn into the sexy fantasy we’ve all been waiting for,” he continued, waggling his mandibles.

Liara brought the back of her hand up to her mouth, hiding her amusement.

Jack and Shepard both turned and gave him a flat stare, mouths hanging slightly ajar. Garrus put his hands up to his chest, palms out. “Too much?”

Jack and Shepard both raised their eyebrows and nodded their heads simultaneously.

“Commander, could I have a word before you descend to the shuttle bay,” Dr. Chakwas said from behind the group of Adults.

“Make is snappy, Doc. She’s gotta face the music and get creamed in front a room of kids,” Jack said, practically skipping off towards the elevators, Garrus closely in tow. “C’mon, T’Soni. You too!”

Liara looked from Jack, to Shepard, and to her datapad. She shrugged and walked towards the elevator.

Shepard turned her attention to Dr. Chakwas. She was hoping she’d get out of being alone with her. Shepard had ignored her summons to come and have an exam. “What can I do for you?”

“Commander, as the medical professional aboard this ship, I don’t think it wise to do what you’re about to do,” Chakwas replied, carefully articulating her words.

“We’re just having fun, Doctor. Just like when you and I share a bottle of brandy,” Shepard replied. “We could all use some fun in our lives right now. So—why don’t you come down with us!” Shepard finished, thinking she’d pulled the perfect ploy to avoid having an exam forced upon her. It wasn’t that she was worried what Chakwas would say—she knew what that would be. Shepard knew that she needed more sleep, and the conversational arguments she’d been having with herself weren’t healthy either. But it wasn’t anything new and she didn’t want to talk about it. She’d dealt with it in the past and didn’t see any issues with continuing to deal with it on her own.

Chakwas eyed her, probably fully aware of Shepard’s intention of avoiding an exam. She then let out a sigh. “Oh, alright,” She finally conceded. “Good idea to be there in case you two get out of hand and throw a crate at an innocent bystander, in the very least. But after this is over, I demand that you come and see me for an exam,” she finished sternly. Shepard simply nodded in agreement, hoping that she’d forget when the fight was over.

“Hurry up, slow ass!” Jack yelled as she poked her head around the corner of the elevator. “Get your ass in here so I know you aren’t trying to tuck tail and run away!”

* * *

Samantha stood in the CIC counting down the minutes until her shift was over. She was exhausted from another night of restless sleep—not to mention the mission Shepard and her team had recently returned from. Shepard had taken James and Garrus to evacuate the students and had been quite successful; but they hadn’t been prepared for such a large number of Cerberus troops to be there. Everyone had made it back to the ship unscathed, but the comm. chatter between James and Shepard had been tense.

Samantha had spent the mission, doing what she could to help, but mainly analyzed a few random Alliance channels to keep herself from chewing her nails off. She was trying to see if she could extrapolate any other slightly shady response signals. But it had been difficult going as the power on the Normandy kept fluctuating, booting Samantha out of her computer every so often. Samantha asked Jeff to look into it and he responded that EDI was looking into it. Samantha found it hard to believe, because EDI would have had found the problem by now.

It had crossed her mind to do an analysis herself, but she was just too tired. She’d spent the night before tossing and turning in her bunk in the crew quarters, going over the things that Shepard had said to her as she was leaving the port side observatory room. What Shepard had asked her, asked her to promise, still resonated in her head. She still thought that that conversation had been a dream; the look on Shepard’s face had been too intimate for the situation. Samantha knew that Shepard meant those words, making Samantha promise to not let the war change her, but she couldn’t figure out why Shepard had brought it up. But the simple conversation had made it almost impossible for Samantha to quell her school girl crush on her Commanding Officer, thwarting her intention of trying to forget about it.

Shepard had been in deep thought before Samantha had burst in and interrupted her. Samantha had laid awake, wondering what Shepard could have possibly been thinking about before she’d entered the observation room. Had something gone wrong while talking with the Asari councilor? Was it something to do with the Krogan? Samantha had posed more questions, lying awake in her bunk the night before, than she had answered.

While she now stood in the CIC, she couldn’t help but run the series of questions through her mind again. She’d wanted to go and look at Shepard’s service files to see if she could understand more about her Commanding Officer, but what little she saw before a power fluctuation booted her from the system was classified red tape, or heavily redacted.

_You know, you could always just ask her,_ she thought to herself, idly clicking out of a window with just a few minutes left to her shift. _Right, because the Commanding Officer of the Normandy has enough down time to explain to you, a lowly Comm. Specialist, her back story and why she is the way she is._

Samantha let out a sigh, closing out of her console. There wasn’t anything more that she could accomplish today, especially if the Normandy’s power continued to fluctuate as it had been. They were headed to the Citadel, where she was sure the Normandy would have a full electrical inspection. She still had two minutes left of her shift, but she shrugged tiredly and turned from her console towards the elevator.

She tapped the button for the elevator and waited. She was tired, but not tired enough to warrant turning in for the night. But then, she had a thought. _What if I asked Dr. T’Soni? She might be able to give me some insight into Shepard._

She nodded as the doors slid open for the elevator. Not only would it give her a chance to find out more about her Commanding Officer, but it might give her someone new to talk to. During the retrofits she had found comfort talking with Steve Cortez, down in the shuttle bay. Not only because he was a fellow rainbow team player, but because he was one of the few people who understood her off kilter humor. But ever since the Normandy went active, she could never find the time to go down to talk to him because he was either on mission with Shepard or fixing the Kodiak, which Samantha just got in the way of.

A few crew members walked out of the elevator; Samantha smiled and nodded to them all as they passed her, but they were too caught up excitedly talking amongst themselves to notice her. Samantha caught something that sounded like:

“That was one hell of an explosion!”

“By far the best way to dispose of a Cerberus shuttle.”

“I’ve always wanted to watch something get spaced!”

Samantha watched them walk and disburse to their stations on the CIC, continuing their animated chatter. _Explosion?_ Before her thoughts could get carried away, the elevator doors began to slide shut. Samantha put a hurried arm between the doors and it opened back up, allowing her to board.

_Why do I always get left out? I’m fun, right?_ She thought as the doors slid shut and she hit the “3” button. She pursed her lips together at the thought. It wasn’t that she felt left out, but she also didn’t really feel included. _It’s not like there is a whole lot of “hey let’s do crew bonding night” going on on-board the Normandy. It was just probably a spur of the moment thing…_ she reasoned with herself. Only then did she notice that she had the beginnings of a headache brewing above her temples. 

She let out a sigh as the elevator doors began to open. She knew that her headaches were bound to kick in again, but she didn’t have any of her meds. _Well, we’re headed to the Citadel, maybe I can get my prescriptions there._ As she looked up to move out of the elevator she had to stop, taking a quick step back into the elevator doorway as a group of teenagers practically skipped and walked past the elevator doors towards the starboard side of the ship. Samantha narrowed her eyes as she watched the teens pass, all excitedly talking amongst themselves and grabbing each other’s shoulders as they spoke.

“That was awesome!”

“Did you see how the metal just tore apart?!”

“Yeah—screw Cerberus!”

“I had no idea an explosion would actually happen in space—lack of oxygen and all.”

_Shepard allowed the Cerberus shuttle to be blown up?!_ Samantha thought, listening intently to what the students were yammering on about. _Did she think to look for a homing device on the shuttle to see if we could locate the Cerberus base?_

Samantha’s thoughts of scolding Shepard for not using the shuttle as an advantage vanished as Shepard rounded the corner, a smile elatedly showing on her face. She was accompanied by a woman wearing a barely there shirt made of straps that revealed she was covered in tattoos and a most interesting haircut of buzzed sides and a long pony tail. “Thanks for going along with it, Shepard. It’s just what the kids needed,” the tattooed woman said.

Shepard openly laughed with the tattooed woman as they continued towards the elevator, where Samantha still stood, slightly awestruck. “Oh please—you just wanted to blow shit up on the Alliance’s dime, Jack.”

“Hell yeah I do,” the woman, apparently named Jack, replied, smacking Shepard’s shoulder with the back of her hand, laughter still in her voice.

Shepard chuckled and then happened to look up, noticing Samantha standing in the elevator doorway. Her laughter turned into a smile, as her eyes made contact with Samantha’s. Then she winked and continued to walk with Jack.

Samantha instantly felt her checks flush as the all too familiar fluttering feeling hit her heart. _How!? How can she do that with a simple wink?!_ Samantha thought, letting out a slow breath in an effort to get her cheeks to return to a normal color. **You’re** _typically the giant flirt… not the stammering idiot._

Samantha looked, making sure that Shepard and Jack were the last ones in the line of people and then finished stepping out of the elevator, the doors immediately closing behind her. _Whoops,_ she thought, thinking someone had summoned the elevator on a different floor and was impatiently waiting.

“Oh, Specialist Traynor,” Samantha heard Shepard say from behind her.

Samantha snapped her attention around. Shepard was leaning around the corner of the elevator shaft, hands on the walls and looking straight at Samantha. “Oh—yes, Commander?” _Stop it, stop it stop it stop it with the blushing!_ she thought frantically.

“Did you by chance give Kahlee Sanders clearance to use the vid-comm?” Shepard asked, raising a friendly eyebrow.

“Yes, Commander,” Samantha sputtered out. “She came to see me straight away after you all returned from Grissom. I established a secure feed to Admiral Anderson for her. ”

“Perfect. Keep up the good work, Traynor!” and with another wink, she straightened up, disappearing behind the corner.

Despite the heat in her cheeks returning at full force from the second wink, Samantha felt her shoulders fall as she bit the inner part of her lower lip. _I don’t get it—she was calling that other woman by her first name. Why doesn’t she use my first name when other people are around? She used my first name last night in the observatory room…_

She shook her head. _You’re in the military, Traynor. It’s considered too informal to use first names. You know that. Since joining the military,_ **everyone** _calls you Traynor. Hell—you call yourself Traynor._ She let out another sigh and then started walking at a full pace towards Dr. T’Soni’s quarters. She rounded the corner of the elevator shaft and noticed that all of the students had migrated into the med bay and were queuing up for an exam by the salt and peppered haired Dr. Chakwas.

_That’s the Doctor that EDI mentioned who made Shepard so uncomfortable last night…_ Samantha thought as she looked and continued walking. Shepard was distinctly standing outside the confines of the med bay, leaning against the wall with the slender Jack.

Samantha was forced to look away when the wall of the alcove that Dr. T’Soni’s room was set back into broke her line of site. She cleared her throat and knocked on the door.

The holo on the door spun for a moment; Samantha was beginning to think that there was another power fluctuation at the rate it was taking when the door finally slid open. Samantha was immediately greeted by a floating blue orb that seemed to be in a constant rotation. “Hello, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor. How may I be of service,” the orb’s synthetic voice helpfully offered.

Samantha blinked at it a few times, wondering what it was and how it knew her name before responding. “I—um. I’m here to see Dr. T’Soni.”

“Dr. T’Soni is currently busy and has asked me to direct all visitors to come back at a later time.”

Samantha blinked, leaning to the side to try and look past the floating orb. The room was covered in vid screens, had multiple consoles wired along the walls, and a large energy generator. She saw Dr. T’Soni sitting at a desk on the other side of the generator, hunched over something—probably another console.

“I can tell Dr. T’Soni of your desire to see her and send you a message when she is available, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor,” the orb said, moving in front of Samantha’s view of the room.

“Oh, right,” she said, straightening her posture. _Though, I think_ **desire** _isn’t the right idea.._. “Thanks, err…”

“Dr. T’Soni has named me Glyph.”

“Right. Thanks… Glyph.”

“Of course Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor.” It began moving closer to Samantha, slowly making her step backward. “Have a pleasant day,” it said once she had stepped out the doorway. The door immediately shut.

Samantha stood there for a moment, staring at the door. _I was just kicked out of a room by a floating VI…_ she blinked a few times before she let out a short breath. _Better than being thrown out by biotics, I suppose._ She turned around and started heading back towards the crew bunks. She let herself look over her left shoulder as she walked, noticing that some students had come out into the mess hall and were still adamantly talking amongst themselves. As she continued, the kitchen area came into view; Shepard was rummaging through the cupboards above the counter. Samantha slowed her pace—unaware of how obvious she was as she stared at her CO. Shepard was on the tip of her toes, trying to look at the various shelves. Her attire was similar to what she had been wearing the night before after returning from Menae: she wore tight, flexible pants that clung to every defined muscle on her legs and butt, and a grungy white tank top that revealed the black color of her bra underneath.

_They all probably have N7 slapped on somewhere too, I’ll wager,_ Samantha thought to herself with a smirk. _I wonder if there’s even an emblem on her bra… or her panties…_

As Shepard continued to rummage, the back of her tank top started to eek up her back, revealing her pale skin. Samantha looked, wondering if she saw the bottom part of a large looking scar when her shoulder suddenly collided with the back corner of the elevator shaft. She took a startled step to the right, looking at the corner she’d bumped into. She looked around quickly, to see if anyone had noticed but all the students were eagerly grabbing whatever Shepard had started tossing to them.

“Eat up, guys!” she heard Shepard say from the kitchen area. Samantha finally noticed that they were energy bars that she was tossing about.

 Samantha didn’t want to chance embarrassing herself any further and decided she needed to be as far away from Shepard as she could get. Even though she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t fixate on her infatuation for her Commander, whenever she was around Samantha always felt like a blubbering fool—especially when other people were present. The other night in the observatory had been the most at east she’d been around her—and even then she had still felt extremely nervous.

She made her way back to the elevator, hitting “5.” She knew that Steve was going to be busy, but she needed someone to talk to. She was even willing to listen to Steve pine about wishing the Normandy was equipped with a Hammerhead instead of the Kodiak—anything to get her mind off of Shepard.

It wasn’t that Samantha disliked life aboard the Normandy—it was just that she didn’t find that she had the time to really be herself and talk with her crewmates. During the retrofits, it wasn’t uncommon for her to spend her lunch in the mess with multiple people, joking about the latest news gossip or celebrity crisis. But since going active, the large group lunches and breaks came to an abrupt end.

_I’m sure Commander Shepard wouldn’t care if we still had those types of breaks,_ Samantha thought. _I mean… I know we’re working to save life as we know it, but we’re still human. We all need to laugh some. Maybe I should buy some funny hats when we dock at the Citadel and wear them in the CIC—while wearing a fake mustache!_ She smiled to herself in the silent elevator. _Comm. Specialist Traynor… ship jester. I think I like the sound of that._

She spent the rest of the elevator ride thinking of funny things she could do while working in the CIC. If there was one thing that she learned from basic, aside from her terrible aim with guns, it was that morale was of the utmost importance and that she was great at raising it.

The doors slid open, revealing the relatively empty shuttle bay. Steve stood over on the port side of the bay at what Samantha always thought was his desk. She could faintly hear the sound of someone exhaling off to the starboard side. As she walked over to Steve’s desk area, a large, solid muscled man who was doing pull ups in a decently sized alcove made of storage crates came into her view.

_Figures that James Mr. Muscles Vega is working out. It’s not like he just came back from a mission or anything._ Samantha didn’t look long at James—all of the rippling muscle made her skin crawl and her stomach turn. She was happy that she was interested in the ladies only. She could never understand heterosexual women’s fascination with heavily muscled men; but she was one less woman trying to nab one, so she figured that she helping to tip the scales in favor for the actually interested women.

She walked up behind Steve, not announcing her presence. Steve was hunched over a large circuit board, tools scattered all about. As quietly as she could, Samantha inched closer, using both hands to poke him on either side of the ribs.

Steve jumped as something sparked and he made an audible squeal. Samantha giggled as she moved up next to him. She leaned her backside on his desk, her body facing out to the shuttle bay, but turned her head to look at Steve. He shook his hand and playfully glared at her. “Real mature, Sam.”

“What?” she feigned.

“I could have electrocuted myself.”

Samantha snorted. “Well, that’s what you get for not unplugging the thing while you’re working on it. Really, how **_did_** you graduate basic?”

Steve chuckled, gently pushing Samantha with his shoulder. “Right, says the computer geek wonder who can’t shoot.”

“Yup, that’s me,” Samantha said, returning the shoulder bump.

“She’s at least got a smokin’ hot body, Esteban,” Samantha heard James from across the shuttle bay. She glanced up, raising her eyebrow as she watched him walk towards them. “She isn’t all skinny, like you.”

Samantha did a slow blink, flattening her eyebrows as she narrowed her eyes and frowned. She wasn’t sure what James was implying. _Well… he is from Mexico… they like their women curvy,_ Samantha thought. Samantha was brought back to the present as Steve laughed. “Oh really, Mr. Vega?”

“Yeah—really. She’s got some meat on her,” he said, a clear sneer across his face as he leaned against a support beam, looking Samantha up and down.

“You know, I can hear… and I **_am_** right here,” Samantha said, not changing her flat expression and crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Yes you are,” James said slowly, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve continued to laugh. “Too bad she plays for the wrong team.”

“What? What do you mean,” James asked, looking from Samantha to Steve.

She shrugged. “Steve and I play on the rainbow team,” she said matter-o-factly. “We even have rainbow colored team shirts and flag.”

“You damn homos, hogging the whole color spectrum,” James joked, pushing off of the beam. “Well—if you ever question your team choice, I’d let you test out the other team on me, if you know what I mean.”

Samantha blinked, opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, looking at Steve. He just smiled at her, silently laughing. She shook her head. “As magnificent as your pectoral muscled are, Mr. Vega, they just aren’t the same as breasts.”

James grinned. “No? Give ‘em a squeeze,” he said, moving forward and flexing his arms, making his pectoral muscles taught.

Samantha raised her eyebrows and glanced at Steve, who shrugged. Samantha returned the shrug, pushing off of his work table. She walked up to James, overly articulating the motion of her hips as she did so and stopped just a few inches away from him; she moved her head, flipping her hair to the side as she placed both hands on his shoulders while she let out a slow sigh. She pursed her lips as she made eye contact with him. She slowly started to move her hands down, over his collar bone and down to his chest, never breaking eye contact with him. He nodded his head up, raising his eyebrows up once. She moved in closer to him, almost so that their chests touched as she moved her hands down his chest and back up slowly, like she’d done so many times with woman.

Only when James made an audible swallow did Samantha abruptly move away. “Yeah—it’s just not doing for me,” she said, shaking her head and taking a few steps back.

“Oh that’s cold,” James said, shrugging his arms and moving his head from side to side. “Damn,” he shook his head as he took a few steps in place, letting his arms fall to his side.

Samantha grinned, leaning back against Steve’s working desk. Steve chuckled. “Looks like someone needs a cold shower.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James said waving a dismissive hand, moving towards some storage crates to the right of Steve’s workspace.

“You know, Vega. You ever think you might be batting for the wrong team, I’d be more than willing to let you have a test ride,” Steve joked as James passed.

James clapped him on the back. “You know, if I ever wanted the dick, you’d be my first booty call.”

Samantha brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her snickering. She’d never seen such an obviously heterosexual male be so unfazed when joking about gay sex. He was obviously one hundred percent secure with his sexuality. Most men of James’ stature typically became verbally violent if they were in a conversation like the one that he and Steve had just shared. Samantha smiled. H _e seems like a good guy,_ she thought, deciding that she liked James and was no longer indifferent towards him.

“Awe, I’m flattered,” Steve said, bringing an overly exaggerated effeminate hand to his chest.

“Anyway,” James said, continuing towards the storage crates. “You mind if I rummage through these? I need a new barrel for my Assault Rifle,” James asked, thumbing towards the boxes.

“Help yourself. Those ones are standard Alliance issue, so they won’t cost you anything. Need anything fancier than that, you’ll have to show me your wallet,” Steve said, turning back to his circuit board.

Samantha was amazed how the two men bantered with each other and then could go straight back to talking shop. She knew that Steve had been going through a hard time; only two months prior to be stationed on board the Normandy to help with the retrofits had Steve’s husband, Robert, passed away while they were both stationed on Ferris Fields. Samantha had been one of the few crew members who would come down and pull him out of the shuttle bay for lunch, making him socialize with other people. The fact that he was joking about sex with James was a good sign. She didn’t even notice the sting in his eyes that he used to show during lunches when he’d make a sarcastic remark about relationships.

She turned around and hugged him around the shoulders, putting her head in the crook of his neck. She felt him smile as he brought a hand up to her arm. They didn’t have to say anything—they both knew why she hugged him.

Steve had been there for her within the first week of the retrofits. She’d left the R&D lab to come and work on the Normandy. She’d had an on again off again girlfriend while she was there, Natalie. Samantha had never quite been the same after the collector attack on Horizon while she was there on leave visiting her parents. The third day aboard the Normandy, Samantha had received a rather nasty email from Natalie, explaining why it was over for good this time and how she couldn’t deal with the whole “collector pity party” anymore. Steve had found her crying behind some of the boxes in the shuttle bay that day. He had been the one to pull her out of her stupor, quicker than anyone else had ever done. They’d become extremely close during the retrofits and the crew had dubbed them “the adorable married couple” after a week or so.

Samantha finally let him go, returning to leaning next to him. “So, when we dock at the Citadel, we should go do something.”

“Maybe next time we dock. I’ve still got a lot of work to do on fixing up the Kodiak from Vega’s midair collision,” Steve replied, grabbing a cloth to wipe part of the circuit board.

“What? That was back on Mars…” Samantha replied, recalling that that was their first mission straight out from Earth; the mission that had put Shepard’s old teammate, Ashley, in the hospital.

 “Yeah—Mr. Vega did a real number on the Kodiak.”

“To save the day, pendejo!” James sounded from the storage crates, tucking a few barrels under his arm and closing the lid. He turned around and started walking towards the starboard side of the shuttle bay, presumably towards the gun calibration table.

“Ri—ight,” Steve responded, shaking his head.

“Come on Steve, you have to get some down time in,” Samantha said. “And you know I need someone to make sure that I don’t get myself into trouble. The Citadel is crawling with beautiful women, after all.”

“Beautiful Asari women, mostly. I thought the blue skin and lack of hair would creep you out,” Steve said playfully.

“Hey—boobs are boobs, my dear friend.”

“Amen to that!” James voiced as he set a few things down on the calibration table, moving to then pick up his rifle from the shuttle bay floor.

Samantha smiled. “So what do you say?”

“Maybe next time, Sam. I really have to get the Kodiak in order. Especially if we’re going to Tuchanka, like Victus wants us to.”

“Alright,” Samantha said dejectedly. “I guess being ready to save the galaxy **_is_** more important.”

They shared a smile, and then Samantha glanced over to James; he was now inspecting each barrel next to his assault rifle. Samantha eyed one of the discarded barrels; she started thinking of ways she could clean it and then recalibrate parts of it and make the whole thing— _real classy, Traynor. You’re seriously eyeing the discarded rifle part and wondering how you could turn it into a vibrator. Good god, you need to get laid._ She shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself. It had been just around seven months since the last time she’d had sex, and it hadn’t been all that exciting then. It had been with Natalie and she had never really been all too exciting in the bedroom department. That, and Samantha had found that there just wasn’t any privacy aboard the Normandy to…take care of things herself. _Unless Shepard let me use that gigantic shower of hers…_ Samantha thought. _There’s plenty of room and privacy there._

As she continued to watch James compare barrels, Samantha’s mind continued wondering, fantasizing about a shower with room to stretch. And the fact that it was up in Shepard’s room brought about an unexpected image—Shepard’s naked body, showering alongside hers. Samantha felt her knees slacken slightly at the thought, feeling the blood rushing to her face and between her legs. _Big enough shower,_ she thought, _for Shepard to give me a hand._

_Really—you go for hand?_ She scolded herself, the enticing image in her head dissolving in a matter of seconds. She shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh, looking away from James at the calibration table. No matter where she was on the ship, or what she was doing, Shepard always had a habit of invading her thoughts and making her blush. She was getting tired of the constant confusion that surrounded her thoughts about Shepard. _Maybe getting laid will make some of those thoughts go away,_ she thought. _Maybe I could message Natalie…_

“Everything alright?” Steve sounded from her right.

Quickly forgoing the idea of contacting Natalie, Samantha snapped her attention, looking at Steve who was eyeing her for being so quiet for so long. “Yeah—everything’s fine. Just remembering things I should be doing in the CIC,” she lied, pushing off of Steve’s desk. “I guess I should probably get back to it.”

Steve eyed her for a moment longer, narrowing his eyes as he took note of her flushed cheeks.

Before she moved, the elevator doors opened and let loose a flood of excited students into the shuttle bay. Samantha, Steve, and James all looked up with the same quizzical expression. Some of the male students were jumping on each other while the female students were chatting excitedly in tight groups.

“Right—I should get back to it then,” Samantha said, as the elevator opened again, releasing more students into the shuttle bay.

“Alright, see ya,” Steve said, looking from his circuit board to the dozen or so students now in his shuttle bay.

Samantha quickly walked over to the elevator, making a noticeable effort to not look at the calibration table for fear she’d start blushing again. As she reached for the elevator buttons, the doors slid open and Samantha was face to face with Shepard. She blinked, not knowing what to do, hoping that the color in her cheeks had faded. She blinked again and looked at the rest of the elevator party: Dr. T’Soni, Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, and the woman named Jack were in the elevator with her, all with smiles on their faces.

“Oh—um, excuse me, Commander,” Samantha said, finally making a motion to step to the side.

Shepard stepped off, stepping towards her as the other elevator occupants began to file out. “Where are you headed?” she asked, leaning towards Samantha, allowing room for Garrus to pass behind her.

The motion of people walking behind her and the fact that she was now barely a foot away from her made Samantha’s nose fill with the smell of a plain soap, mixed with a stale salty scent. The smell made Samantha’s knees slacken—the smell reminded her of cuddling after sex. “Well—I, err, I have some—” Samantha muttered, unable to form a coherent thought. _Shit! Get sex off of your brain, Traynor!_

“You’ll miss the show!” Jack said loudly, walking past Shepard. “Everyone’s about to see me kick the shit out of Shepard.”

Shepard put her left hand up against the wall and leaned, looking towards Jack. Her position made it impossible for Samantha to move away without being obvious about it, and it also made Shepard a few inches closer to Samantha. “Right Jack, keep inflating that ego. It’ll make a bigger pop when I pin it to the floor,” Shepard yelled after her. She grinned, looking back at Samantha. “Whatever you’ve got going on, Traynor, it can wait. You should stay,” she finished, tilting her head slightly to her left.

Samantha looked from Shepard to the crowd that was now formed in the shuttle bay. The only person missing, it seemed like, was Moreau. She looked back at Shepard, making eye contact with her ridiculously green eyes, Shepard’s unique scent invading her senses. “Is that an order, Commander?” she asked coyly, narrowing her eyes. After she said it, she fought the urge to grimace; it had sounded far too much like she was trying to flirt.

Shepard’s smiled moved to her eyes. With a wink she said, “I could make it one,” she responded with an equally flirtatious tone.

Samantha fought the urge to bite her lower lip as she felt the heat in her cheeks return. _For fuck sake, Traynor, it’s just a wink…and the fact that she’s quite possibly flirting with you…_ “A-alright, Commander,” she said.

Shepard nodded, pushing off of the wall with her hand. With one last smile she turned and bounded past the students to the open shuttle bay floor, stretching her arms as she went.

Samantha let out a slow breath. Her conversation with Shepard had been muted by the loud clambering of students, arguing who they thought was going to win whatever was about to happen. She made one final breath in attempts to regain her composure and then moved towards where Steve was now standing by the requisition console.

Samantha tried to avoid looking at Shepard as she leaned next to Steve. He nudged her shoulder with his as he crossed his arms over his stomach. “Ah—I see what’s going on.”

Samantha eyed him as she crossed her arms. “What?”

He leaned into her, whispering into her ear. “You’ve got a thing for our Commanding Officer, don’t you?”

She felt her jaw tighten as her eyes widened. She spun her attention, coming only a few inches away from his face. “Is it that bloody obvious?!” she worriedly hissed back.

Steve’s eyes widened as his mouth made a silent “O” shape. “Well—no. I was just teasing you because you’re blushing… but if that’s the case—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Samantha elbowed him in the ribs. “Say another word and I’ll bloody end you,” she hushed him.

He started to laugh, rubbing his side. He replied quietly, “Alright, alright. But I hope you’re planning on filling me in on all the details eventually.”

Samantha mock glared at him. “That’s why I wanted to go to the Citadel with you,” she said, continuing to speak in a low volume; not that anyone could hear them over the chatter of the students. “You know—to have one of our girly gossip sessions.”

“In that case, I think I can spare an hour or two once we dock,” he said, smiling at her with a wink.

_Does everyone on this ship wink?_ Samantha thought as she returned the smile and then focused back on the events in shuttle bay. Both Shepard and Jack were stretching, seemingly prolonging whatever was about to happen. Her eyes lingered on Shepard, who was stretching her arm over her head and tilting to the side, exposing the bottom of her side. _But hers are the only ones that get me… every time._

“Alright ladies,” Jack suddenly announced, getting everyone’s attention. “Here’s how this is going to go down.”

“We’re not all ladies, ma’am!” one of the male students refuted.

“Like I said, _ladies,”_ Jack continued after giving the student an “oh please” face, lips pursed out, one eyebrow raised higher than the other.

James laughed, flexing his biceps. “They may be a bunch of little girls, but not this man.”

Samantha couldn’t help herself. “I thought we already established that you have glorious, lesbian worthy breasts, Vega.”

Dr. Chakwas put a hand up to her mouth, presumably hiding a laugh. Garrus threw his head back and laughed openly. Dr. T’Soni looked befuddled. The students made an elongated “ooooh.” Jack grinned and nodded her head in approval. None of their reactions quite topped that of Shepard’s; she looked at Samantha and smiled—but it was different that her normal smiled. It was softer, as though something that Samantha had said had pleased her. Samantha only glanced at her, but didn’t dare make eye contact, for fear of blushing.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, Traynor,” Garrus said, still laughing.

“You wound me, Chiquita,” James said, shaking his head with a smile.

Samantha smiled. It felt good that the entire shuttle bay was laughing because of something she said. _See, Comm. Specialist Jester Traynor… It definitely works._

“So **_ladies_** —and before one of you interrupts me, you are all ladies, or I got a biotic shockwave ready for the next persons face who disagrees,” she said, flaring her fist with her biotics. Garrus snickered, but otherwise the shuttle bay was quiet. “Here’s how this is going to go down. First one pinned to the floor loses. Bets are encouraged,” she finished with a grin.

Shepard chuckled behind her and then ran her hands through her hair. It looked like she reached for a hair tie on her wrist, but found nothing. She put her hands down and scoped the room. “Do any of you have a hair tie I could borrow?”

Before Samantha had the chance to offer up the one on her own wrist, a female student started jumping up and down. “Oh, I do!” she said, a little too excitedly as she pulled the hair tie out of her own hair and holding it up for Shepard to see.

Shepard smiled and walked forward at a brisk pace, taking it from the girl. “Thanks,” she said quickly, already starting to put her hair up. With her hands still up in her hair she winked at the girl and then turned to head back to the open area of the shuttle bay. Samantha noticed the female student made an excited face to the girl standing next to her, the one that girls make when their crush says something to them for the first time.

Before Samantha could stop herself she thought: _Does she wink at everyone?! At least I’m not the only one that it flusters, I guess._

“And remember,” Shepard sounded, sternly as she finished tying her hair back. Samantha couldn’t help but notice that, with her hair pulled away from her face, Shepard’s pronounce facial features became even more apparent. Samantha couldn’t help but take in how beautiful she was; long thin scars and all; had she not bee Alliance, she would have no doubt been recruited as a model. “What happens on the Normandy **_stays_** on the Normandy. If I find this circulating the xtranet, I’ll figure out who posted it and pay them a little visit. We clear?” Shepard finished, pointing a serious finger at all of the students.

“Understood, ma’am!” All the students said at once.

Shepard nodded, satisfied with the response. “Alright sweet cheeks—let’s do this,” she said to Jack.

“You’re on!” Jack said, peeling off the small leather jacket that she had been wearing to expose a revealing top. The closest thing that Samantha could relate it to was a halter top: Her chest was covered, by as much as most bras would have covered. Straps went up around her neck, crossed again by her shoulder blades, and one final time in the middle of her back. Most of her midriff was left exposed, showing off her cacophony of tattoos. Only one final cris-crossing of fabric provided any cover, just under her navel, to her stomach. The material seemed to continue to cris-crossing down her legs, if what was viewable of the open side of her pants was any indication.

Samantha was admittedly staring at Jack’s body. She was in perfect shape, and among all her tattoos were scars. She was the type of girl that she had wanted to go after in high school, to spite her parents after she’d come out to them. She smirked to herself, half wishing that Shepard would peel off her tank top, knowing full well that Shepard would be someone her father could very well approve of.

Shepard however, did not oblige to Samantha’s mental request. Shepard stood there, hands on her hips, seemingly waiting for Jack to make the first move. Jack threw her coat towards the small crowd and then flung some sort of biotic energy at Shepard. Shepard dodged with ease, but didn’t throw anything back.

_This might get ugly,_ Samantha said, noticing the sheer power behind Jack’s first throw. It dissipated as it hit the back of the shuttle bay, but it had been powerful enough to generate a small amount of wind inside. Despite her apprehension to how intense the fight might get, she was excited to finally see biotics used in person.

Jack threw a few more throws at Shepard, beginning to circle and moving away from the onlookers. Once she was sufficiently away from crowd of students, Shepard unleashed a shockwave that Jack barely dodged. Samantha had expected the students to be cheering, but they were dead silent, eagerly watching the two women throw biotics at one another.

Shepard threw shockwaves at alarmingly fast rate, giving Jack little chance to throw anything of her own. The way the Shepard systematically threw the waves kept Jack pinned next to the Kodiak staging area. Samantha glanced at Steve, who grimaced every time a wave jolted the Kodiak. Looking back at the brawl, Samantha couldn’t help but smile at Shepard’s tactic. _She’d be a mean chess player,_ she thought, watching Shepard perfectly time each wave, and throwing a charge every so often to keep Jack on her toes.

Jack finally caught a break and lifted one of crates that walled James’ alcove. She pulled it towards Shepard, hitting her in the shoulder and knocking her off balance.

Shepard’s barrier flared, pushing the crate away and letting it land with a loud thud a few feet away, towards the shuttle bay doors. Samantha heard Steve take a sharp inhale. Apparently whatever was in that crate had been valuable or fragile, or both. Jack then threw a biotic throw that clipped Shepard in the shoulder, causing her to whirl around.

Jack rushed Shepard, making a biotically charged swing for her face. Shepard ducked at the last second and brought her own biotic fist into Jack’s stomach. Jack took the hit, bringing both of her hands together and hitting Shepard in the back, pushing her forward. Shepard made an audible groan, but used the momentum from Jack’s hit to summersault forward to get away from her. Jack dropped to her hands and swung with her legs, catching Shepard’s foot as she tried to stand. Shepard stumbled again and Jack made a grab for her.

Before Samantha really knew what happened, Shepard seemed to dematerialize and phase past Jack, coming to a stop about ten feet away and immediately throwing a charge at Jack. It hit her in the shoulder, causing her to roll onto the ground. She quickly jumped up, a grin plastered to her face, and threw a shockwave back. Shepard dodged it with ease, but now had her back to the crowd of onlookers.

Jack then biotically lifted the crate again and then threw it towards Shepard and the crowd with an audible grunt. The group of students gasped, and Samantha noticed that Dr. T’Soni flared her own biotics, but didn’t use them. Quickly looking back at Shepard who had dodged out of the way; her left arm was angled backwards, fully flared with her biotics and the crate came to a stop in midair a few feet in front of the first row of students. Shepard let it hang there for a moment before she used her right hand to throw a shockwave at Jack. A split second later, she threw the crate to the other side of Jack.

Jack had barely dodged the shockwave when she then ducked to avoid the crate. In the time it took her to do both actions, Shepard dematerialized, a stream of blue shooting across the open shuttle bay floor towards Jack. _Is that a biotic charge?_ Samantha wondered.

Shepard reappeared behind Jack in midair, looking as if her feet were planted on the crate that was still flying, suspended in flight. She pushed off of it as Jack was in the middle of turning around and then tackled Jack, forcing her to the floor. Shepard rode her to the floor, landing with her knees on either side of Jack’s waist and hands wrapped around her wrists.

Jack let out a painful grunt. “Holy shit, Shepard. Owe!” Jack said, moving her head from left to right.

Shepard released Jack’s wrists, and sat up, sitting on Jack’s pelvis. “Looks like I win, sweet cheeks.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just stop fucking calling me that!” Jack spat, moving her hips, forcing Shepard to fall to the side.

The students erupted in cheers. Dr. T’Soni looked extremely impressed, and Garrus looked as if he was holding onto a snide comment.

Shepard stood, and offered a hand to Jack to help her up. Jack took it, and once she was standing she punched Shepard in the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” Jack said, waiving off the crowds cheering. “I would have creamed your ass had I not been so worried about scuffing your damn ship.”

“Mhmm, ri-ight. Because I couldn’t possibly win on pure talent,” Shepard laughed.

Samantha blinked and watched the reaction of the crowd, still slightly confused as to what Shepard had done to win the fight. But she could feel herself smiling. It had been invigorating to watch to two biotic women fight. It was almost like a dance; a very strategic dance with bluish purple lighting.

She let herself stare at Shepard’s now sweaty body out of the corner of her eye. _Everyone else is, so why can’t I?_ she justifiably thought to herself. Shepard smiled, tugging the bottom of her shirt up with both her hands. She pulled up her shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from her face. Samantha subconsciously bit her lower lip as she saw the gentle ripple of Shepard’s abs glisten with sweat as she breathed. She saw the scars that she’d seen a few nights prior, when she had put Shepard to bed. She then brought her right hand up to her mouth, her left arm still crossed over her stomach, holding her right elbow. She used her hand to shield the smile she couldn’t stifle.

* * *

The air rushed through her hair as Shepard biotically charged the crate. The move worked theoretically in her head, but wasn’t sure if she’d stop in time or if she’d go barreling through the crate. Luckily, her feet made contact and she stopped her forward motion. Everything around her seemed to be moving impossibly slow, even Jack’s reactive movement. Jack had barely turned forty-five degrees when Shepard crouched down on the moving crate and then pushed off, towards Jack.

Her vision finally caught up with the world as she made a grab for Jack’s arms and forced her back. Jack let out a yelp as she fell to the floor. Shepard did what she could to slow the fall, so that Jack wouldn’t hit her head, and put her knees on either side of Jack’s waist. Her knees hit first, sending a searing pain through her thighs. She then braced Jack’s upper body by pulling ever-so-slightly on Jack’s arms. Jack’s head still hit the shuttle bay floor, but it was at much less of an impact than it would have been had Shepard done nothing.

“Fuck,” Jack breathed as she opened her eyes after making contact with the floor.

Shepard could only grin at her. Shepard had thought about letting Jack win, simply out of pride, but she had also wanted to win. With how James had acted during the mission to Palaven, and Grissom, she wanted to show him that she could best the best biotic in the galaxy.

“Holy shit, Shepard. Owe!” Jack said, moving her head from left to right.

Shepard released Jack’s wrists, and sat up, sitting on Jack’s pelvis. “Looks like I win, sweet cheeks,” she said, making sure she was loud enough for the entire shuttle bay to hear.

“Yeah, whatever. Just stop fucking calling me that!” Jack spat, moving her hips. Shepard let the movement push her off of Jack as she fell to the side, letting herself take in a few heavy breaths. She spread her arms out on the shuttle bay’s cool floor. She’d probably pushed it too hard, just getting back from a mission and all. But she’d tested using two biotic powers while they were fighting the collectors and hadn’t had the chance to test it out again until now. It was good to know that she could still do it. It was harder to do in armor, but she was working on it.

The students had already erupted in cheers, vocalizing their disbelief and wonderment for how the fight had turned out. Shepard let herself smile again as she sat up. She stood first, ignoring the pain from her knees, and then offered a hand to Jack.

Jack took the hand and stood, then punched Shepard hard in the shoulder. Shepard figured she did it because of the smile that was plastered to her own face. “Yeah, yeah,” Jack said, waiving towards the loud crowd in front of them. “I would have creamed your ass had I not been so worried about scuffing your damn ship.”

“Mhmm, ri-ight. Because I couldn’t possibly win on pure talent,” Shepard laughed.

“Ha! In your dreams!”

“Can’t you just gracefully admit defeat like the rest of us, Jack?” Shepard teased, gently pushing Jack’s shoulder with her hand.

Jack shrugged. “If I did that, I’d sound like a pussy.”

Shepard shook her head, letting herself continue to smile. She couldn’t help herself; she was surrounded by many of the people that she cared about most. She knew that Joker was watching from the cockpit, so in spirit, he was here too. Had Tali, Grunt, Wrex, Samara, Thane, Kasumi, and Ashley been here, she would have been smiling from ear to ear. But as it was, she was happy. Everyone around her was happy and having a good time. She hadn’t been around this much positive energy since taking down the collector base and making it out with everyone intact, including Legion. That had been one hell of a party—especially when she had read the riot act to the Illusive Man and the entire crew celebrated being separated from Cerberus.

It was moments like this that the voice in her head was at its quietest. These were the moments that she preferred. Moments like this were the only thing that had kept her sane through all of the things that she’d been through during her military career. So long as she had things like this to look forward to, she knew that she could make it out of anything.

She looked up, noticing that Samantha was looking at her, admittedly, along with the majority of the students. Shepard had been glad that she’d stayed to watch. She had wanted Samantha to see that she wasn’t just a ticking time bomb of hysterics and emotional distance. She didn’t know why she cared so much what the witty but still seemingly shy Specialist thought of her, but she had subconsciously wanted to impress her, too. She noticed that most of their interactions started with Samantha blushing, which had confused her until now, chalking it up to simply nervousness for being around her Commanding Officer—combined with memories of their first encounter. She didn’t realize that it might be something more until she saw Samantha shoulder check herself on the elevator shaft when walking away from the mess hall earlier in the day when she had distributed the energy bars amongst the students.

That, combined with the witty comment she’d made towards Vega before the fight had confirmed a thought that she’d hadn’t considered until tonight. _There’s no way she can be that nerdy and be completely straight,_ she thought as she continued to smile. Until now she had considered that she had been bisexual, given how friendly she was with everyone. She didn’t know why now knowing that made her more interested in Samantha, it hadn’t stopped her from falling for Ashley.

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple. Noticing that Samantha was still casually looking, she flexed her abs, just slightly, and used both hands to pull up the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face. She stayed like that, longer than she knew she needed to, but wanted to see the effect it had on ever flustered Specialist. When she brought her shirt down, she glanced at Samantha; she had brought her right hand up to her mouth, her forefinger curled in front of her lips while the rest of the fingers fell in a loose fist. She was only looking at her out of the corner of her eye, but Shepard could tell that Samantha was noticeably trying to hide a smile.

Shepard repositioned her shirt, making sure all her midriff was covered again, and then she started walking towards the crowd of students. She knew that taunting Samantha was probably slightly cruel, considering she didn’t know how she felt about the honey skinned Specialist or if she even wanted to risk letting herself feel anything more than friendship for her. She still was holding onto the idea that Ashley might return her affection someday. But it was harmless teasing. Harmless flirting, like when she’d asked her to stay when she’d tried to board the elevator. It was better than dwelling on the fact that Samantha had seen her at her absolute worst.

Shepard looked up at the crowd as she came closer, noticing that Liara looked rather impressed from how the fight had turned out, and Garrus looked bemused as only he could. Jack had donned her coat again and was surrounded by a group of her students, going over the particulars of the fight. Shepard avoided looking at Dr. Chakwas; she really didn’t want to remind her that she had promised she would come and see her when this was all said and done. James looked almost broody as he leaned against the calibration table. Not wanting to deal with whatever his problem was, she turned towards Samantha and Steve.

It might have been the affects of adrenaline in her system, or it might have been the sheer fact that Shepard was the happiest she’d been since leaving Earth, but she wasn’t sure why she wanted to go and gauge what Samantha thought of the display. Maybe a small part of her was admitting that she might actually like the witty, honey skinned Comm. Specialist. Not wanting to be too obvious about her intentions she walked up, stopping closer to Samantha than to Steve, but spoke to Steve first. “So—did that turn out how you expected, Cortez?”

Steve looked slightly pained, looking back at the now broken crate on the shuttle bay floor. “I never doubted you, Commander. I just wish it wasn’t at the expense of the back thruster parts.”

Shepard grimaced, putting a nervous hand on the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“But that was some damn smart repositioning, if I say so myself. She never saw you coming until it was too late!” Steve said, grinning in admiration.

Shepard moved her hand down, letting herself grin. “I do what I can.” She glanced as Samantha, who had brought her hand down and had both arms crossed over her stomach, casually leaning against the requisitions table. “And what about you, Traynor? Enjoy the show?” Before she could stop herself, she put too much of an inflection on the word show, accompanied by a suggestive eyebrow raise, which made it seem like she was referring to herself and not the actual fight.

Thankfully, Samantha didn’t seem to notice. She dropped her hands to her sides and stood up straight. “Absolutely, Commander. I’ve never seen biotics used in a fight before. It’s quite invigorating, really.”

“Invigorating, huh? Well, it’s good to know that we can put on an entertaining display,” Shepard said, shifting her body weight to her right leg so that she was leaning slightly closer to Samantha than to Steve.

“Absolutely. And the way that you strategically attacked was quite fascinating to watch. You must have played a lot of strategy games as a child.”

Shepard laughed. “Strategy games? No, I’m afraid not,” she admitted.

“Oh. Well, with all your groundside experience, I’m sure you’d be a challenging opponent to beat in a game of chess,” Samantha said, seemingly starting to relax in her shoulders. It seemed that the energy in the room was loosening up the ever nervous specialist before her.

Shepard had heard of chess, even seen it played in a few vids. But it was a game that she’d never actually played herself. Before Shepard had the chance to respond, Steve spoke up. “Commander, I think you should check in with Mr. Vega,” he motioned towards James with his eyes and an inclination of his head.

Shepard raised an eyebrow and then turned at the waist to look in his direction. James stood, arms crossed, hips leaning against the calibrations table, and a scowl on his face looking towards the empty space of the shuttle bay. “There’s always **_one_** Debby downer,” Shepard said, shaking her head. She turned back to Samantha. “We’ll have to chat about this “chess” game another time,” she smiled, trying to convey that Samantha would have to teach her. Samantha nodded, smiling ever-so-slightly. Shepard nodded and then turned and walked towards James.

James watched her walk up, the scowl on his face unchanging. “Nice moves, Lola.”

“What’s with the name, Lola?” Shepard asked, coming to a stop in front of him.

He shrugged, the scowl lessening slightly. “Dunno, you just look like a Lola to me. You don’t mind, do you?”

It was Shepard’s turn to shrug. “Not really. Care if I call you Muscles?”

James let out a single laugh. “Naw—I’m more than just this muscled exterior.”

“Fair enough,” Shepard responded, crossing her arms over her stomach and shifting her weight to her rear foot, slightly leaning away from James. “So what’s with the frown?”

James was quiet for a moment, and then stood upright, uncrossing his arms. He motioned towards the shuttle bay space with his thumb. “Think you can dance and talk at the same time?”

Shepard tilted her head to the side slightly. “Oh, I can dance. But really? I just got done fighting with Jack.”

“C’mon. You’re mother fucking Commander Shepard. You can’t go two in a row? It’s not like I have the biotics to worry about.”

“Oh, James,” Shepard said, adding the slightest touch of sultry to her voice. “I can go all night long.”

James gave a dark smirk. “Okay Lola, let’s do this.”

Still slightly confused as to James’ motives, Shepard shrugged, silently agreeing to another brawl. The two of them moved towards the empty shuttle bay floor space. It took a few moments, but the crowd began to hush as they made their way towards the middle of the cleared area. Shepard glanced back, noticing that everyone had their full attention. She had a feeling that this sparing session wasn’t going to be a good natured as Jack’s had been.

She glanced briefly at Samantha, who looked rather worried. Shepard smiled, moving to remove her tank top. “We might as well give the girls a show, huh Vega?”

James glanced at the crowd of students and shrugged. “Sure, whatever.” He peeled off his shirt, getting a few gasps from the female students.

Shepard stole one last glance at Samantha, who looked relatively appalled by the stripping of James’ shirt. She smirked to herself, lifting the end of her shirt up and over her head. _Yup… she’s definitely a hundred percent lesbian,_ she thought as she threw her sweaty tank top towards the ground by the crowd of students. “Don’t let my good looks fool you, Vega. I’ve gotten my share of scars,” she said, fighting the urge to steal another glance at Samantha before the fight started.

James bent his neck to the left and right, allowing the vertebra to crack. “I can see that, Lola,” he said, bringing his hands together and popping his knuckles. He put his hands up by his face, defensively.

Shepard brought her hands up, lowering her center slightly as she bent at the knees, moving her feet farther apart. It had been a few years since she’d done actual hand to hand combat training, but it wasn’t completely foreign to her. She decided she was going to test him out first and threw a soft left towards his head, followed by a quick right. James deflected them effortlessly with his forearms.   

James let out a quick laugh. “You remind me of my old CO,” he bobbed on both feet for a moment before he made two immediate jabs to Shepard’s face with his left.

Shepard backpedaled to avoid the quick jabs from James. She then took a few quick steps forward, attempting a left uppercut to his chin, missing. “Oh yeah?” She tried again, this time only barely missing her target as James almost miscalculated his block. “And who was that?” she asked, taking a few cautionary steps back.

James didn’t pursue her, but stood there, relaxing his form for a moment as he spoke. “Captain Tony. He was a hard ass son of a bitch, but a good leader.” He suddenly moved forward with a left jab followed closely by a right. She let him hit her forearms, being slightly tousled around.   

Her forearm stung from the impact of James connection. She quickly gathered that this was clearly more than James wanting to spar for fun. “Was?” she prodded, taking a few steps away to avoid being hit again. She needed to get to the bottom of why he his attitude had been so poor on the last few missions, not to mention his response to her and Jack’s sparing session.

“Died,” he said, taking a step back as he started to circle Shepard. Shepard took the chance to glance at the crowd as she started to turn her back towards them. Everyone was watching intently. The atmosphere in the room had completely changed in the room. No one was smiling anymore. All the students watched with opened mouths, while Shepard’s crew had worried complexions written on their faces. Jack was eyeing James, as if she was about to jump in and start pounding on him. Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, and Liara were tentatively watching; all three of them sharing the same concerned expression on their faces. Steven and Samantha stood next to each other, both looking like they were trying to concentrate on what was being said between the two soldiers.

Shepard’s view was broken as she circled with James, putting her focus back to him. “He died with most of my squad protecting a civilian colony from a collector attack,” he said, a trace of venom in his voice. He suddenly jabbed with his left, which Shepard deflected, but he connected with her chin on the next left jab he made.

Light flashed behind her eyes as she stepped back, raising her arms higher up around her face. _Fuck he hits hard,_ she thought, trying to blink out the white dots in her vision. His muscle apparently weren’t all for show—they were actually used to deliver mind numbing punches. “And the colony?” she asked, trying to keep him talking to give her a chance to regain her full vision.

“It was either them,” he started as he made a few quick steps towards her, trying another left jab to her face that she was thankful she dodged, still slightly dazed. “Or the intel we had on the collectors,” he finished his sentence with a hard left that Shepard used both of her arms to block, and then immediately ducked as he threw a wide right over her head. “Intel we could have used to destroy them,” his words were becoming angrier, and articulated with heavier punches. He made a jab to her face again, which she narrowly back stepped out of reach from. “I chose the intel,” he said, closing the distance between them with one large step, attempting another and uppercut with his right hand.

Shepard could feel the tension radiating from James’ body. This was what had been eating away at him. But his punches were getting harder and faster, but sloppier. Before he could make another swing at her face, she took a wide step back, quickly turning about and landing a round house with her right foot square to his chest, trying to force him away from her. He took a few stumbling steps back, putting his hands higher up by his face. She regained her footing, taking one more step away from him. “Sorry, that’s a tough call.”

They started to circle each other again. Shepard didn’t bother trying to gage the room again; she had to pay attention to the angry Lieutenant in front of her. “The best part was, we didn’t really need the intel in the end, cause you were out saving the galaxy by taking down the entire collector home world,” James said angrily, abruptly stopping his circling of Shepard and went in with a hard double left jab, followed by a left, right, left combination, all aimed at her face.

Shepard blocked each shot, letting him connect with her forearms again, which were starting to sting. James hadn’t bothered with putting on his kid gloves; each hit that connected with Shepard’s forearms was numbingly painful, sending vibrations throughout her body. “You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself, Vega!” She could feel his anger beginning to rub off on her the harder he hit. This was something that he should have told her once they had started working together, not something that he had held onto until now. Was this the reason why he seemingly had a death wish on every mission?

“Who says I’m blaming myself?” James asked sternly, almost yelling.

Shepard used his moment of outright anger to connect with his nose with a left jab, followed by a right uppercut to his chin. “I do!”

James shook his head as his nose started to trickle blood. She’d also broken skin on his chin, a dribble of blood landing on his taught chest. It was a good feeling to know that she could still throw an effective punch. James blinked a few time, and then went in for a left cross that narrowly missed her face. Her cheek was caught with the following right jab. “You a shrink too?”

Shepard blinked, trying to ignore the pain coming from the left side of her face. She faked right and then shot a left jab, barely connecting with his shoulder. “No,” she tried again with her left, crossing just under his chin as he back stepped. “But that stunt back on Mars was reckless!” She used her left to make him block and then came in with a right uppercut that cut right under his blocking forearms. She connected hard with his jaw. The hit made her fingers tingle.

James growled, throwing a wild left punch over her head, followed by a crude right uppercut that nicked her jaw as it passed. The motion had made her bite the inside of her lip, and she could taste blood now pooling behind her lip. “SO!” James yelled, still advancing.

She swallowed a mixture of saliva and blood. “So,” she said, dodging another wild punch. She attempted to connect to his face again with a left jab, but he weaved to the side, avoiding the hit entirely. “Maybe you don’t care if you live or die!”

“Or maybe,” he responded immediately with another left jab. Shepard brought her forearms together just in time to block the hit. Her elbows were starting to tingle from the intense impact of his punches. “I’m just willing to do whatever it fucking takes to end this goddamn war!” He took a large step forward, pulling his left arm back behind his waist and came in to try and hit Sheppard in the stomach.

“Maybe you are,” she responded, turning to her left, forcing him to miss and then continuing her motion to round house his cheek. Shepard’s own anger was slowly starting to boil over. His face was forced to the side, causing him to spit; red tinted saliva flew from his mouth. “But if you’re half as good as I think you are we need you alive!”

“What’s the good in being alive when all we’re doing is running around the galaxy on glorified council errands?! Earth is being torn apart by Reapers as we speak!” He full out yelled as he moved in to try another body shot to her stomach.  

Shepard clenched her jaw and dropped her arms, catching his incoming fist in both of her hands. Pain irradiated through her palms and into her forearms, but she used his forward force to pull him in as she turned around, forcing him over her shoulder and flipping him onto the ground. As he hit the ground, she dropped her right knee to his chest, pinning him to the ground as she held his arm at a painful angle. “Don’t you dare, for one second, think that there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t think about Earth!” she yelled down at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that the screams of the people as we left Vancouver don’t resonate in my head! I’m out here playing politician because I have to!” She released his arm, glaring down at him.

James made a vicious guttural growl as he grabbed Shepard’s knee and pushed her off of his chest. Shepard tried to stand, but as she was trying to catch her balance, James swung his legs under her, catching both of her feet and sending her back to the ground, painfully landing on her tailbone.

Suddenly, Shepard saw the rubble of Elysium around her. She’d been pulled out of her crow’s nest and thrown to the ground, three stories down. As she tried to catch her breath, a large Batarian walked into her line of sight, glaring down at her; her sniper rifle landing in the dirt some ten feet away.

Even though there was a burning in her lungs from the air being forced out, she let out a low, guttural animalistic snarl, filled with rage. She used her biotics to help herself launch herself back up with her hands, jumping up into a standing position. Before the batarian had a chance to react, she flared her biotics, grabbing hold of the slavers shirt and throwing him as far as her biotics would let her. Using a biotic charge, she caught up with his flying body before it made contact with the ground. Bringing both fists together, she hit the center of his chest, forcing his body to the ground with a resonating thud as he landed in the dirt on his back.

She moved down, more quickly than she would have had she not had her biotics flared. She straddled the batarian’s chest and reared her right fist with a growl, pouring all of her biotic energy into her hand.

James’ face abruptly came back into her view as she began to throw her fist down. With a moment of confusion, Shepard altered the trajectory of her first, and missed James’ face. Her hand made contact with the shuttle bay floor, not a half inch away from James’s ear. Her fist forced the metal of the floor to give an inch or two with an awful bending metal sound.

Shepard couldn’t help but blink. Her rapid blinking didn’t clear her mind of what had just happened. She knew she wasn’t on Elysium. She knew that she was on the Normandy. She knew that she wasn’t fighting a batarian, but James. She looked down at her fist, then to James’ very surprised face. She took a moment, and took in a few short breaths before abruptly standing. She took a few steps away from James, looking at her hand again, noticing that there was blood now coming from her knuckles. She felt sweat trickle down her spine and between her breasts. She looked back to where she had made contact with the floor and saw the dent she’d made. James slowly started to sit up.

_What the fuck was that?!_ she thought, absolutely mortified at what she’d done. She looked up and felt her heart stop for a moment; she had forgotten than there had been a crowd of people watching. Every single person, crewmate and student alike, stood there with gapping mouths, making no sound or motion. They all looked at her, utter confusion written over their faces.

Shepard’s heartbeat quickened as she felt sweat trickle down the sides of her face, indicating that she was starting to panic. She looked up, looking at the face of Samantha: she, thankfully, only looked perplexed, looking from Shepard to James, who was now attempting to stand. Shepard looked from Samantha to the students, most of whom looked outright frightened.

Her heartbeat quickened still. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t handle the look on everyone’s faces. She abruptly started walking, only stopping to pick up her discarded tank top and wrapping it around her bleeding knuckles.

She tore the hair tie out of her hair and extended a hurried hand to the student who had lent it to her. The student apprehensively put her hands out to catch it as Shepard released it. She nodded to her and then started walking again. The students parted, making room for her to get to the elevator. Even Dr. Chakwas, Jack, and Garrus moved out of the way. Liara, however, made a grab for Shepard’s arm. “Jane,” she said softly.

Shepard violently pulled her arm away from Liara, forcing herself past her; barely touching her shoulder as she went. She punched the holo to summon the elevator. As the doors slid open, James yelled, “Lola!”

She stepped into the elevator and turned around, looking at James who had walked forward and was a few feet in front of the crowd of students. He nodded to her: all the anger had left his expression. The look in his eyes was that of respect—the look she’d seen in his eyes the first day she’d met him back in Vancouver. “Thank you. I really needed that,” he said, sincerity ringing in his voice.

Shepard clenched her jaw, making distant eye contact with him. She gave a curt nod and the elevator doors shut.


	6. Post-Traumatic What What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve taken large artistic liberties as I create Shepard’s back story. Some of it may not follow completely in line with what the game set out, but I couldn’t help myself. I was that kid in grade school who couldn’t color inside the lines, I suppose. 
> 
> Also, a quick note to say that I’ve been mentioning the wrong observation deck this entire time; all scenes that I mention take place in the Port observation deck ACTUALLY take place in the starboard side. I played the game a little this last week and actually went into the rooms to look at the difference. I’ll be going back through and fixing that eventually. My apologies.

Shepard put her back to the wall opposite of Jack’s old cot; she let her body slide down into a sitting position on the floor to the left of the table. The friction of her bare skin on the cold metal of the wall hurt, but not nearly as badly as the rest of her body ached. Anyone who walked by wouldn’t see her, and that was precisely why she’d gone here instead of going to her cabin. She took in quick, shaky breaths, proof that she’d over exerted herself—not that the congealing sweat all over her body wasn’t proof enough. Everything hurt; from her knees to her arms, everything screamed in pain. That last attack she’d done on James had emptied what little store of adrenaline her body had left to keep the pain at bay, but it all now surfaced.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, pinning her arms as she brought her hands to her face, her right hand still wrapped in her now bloodied tank top. _You have to get a hold of yourself. You’re on the Normandy. Elysium was twelve years ago,_ she thought to herself as she attempted to regulate her breathing. She felt hot tears starting to well in her eyes as she began to rock back and forth.

The feeling in the pit of her stomach was worse than any of the guilt she felt after arguing with herself. She could have killed James, like she had done to that Batarian on Elysium. Her punch had gone straight through his head, shattering his skull and liquefying his brain—killing him instantly. At that point in her military career, she was still learning how to really use her biotics. On the farm she grew up on at Mindoir, she had used them to lift things for her father, or to pull small things off of high shelves for her mother. But when she entered the military, they didn’t really know what to do with her, and her parents were gone, no longer alive to provide gentle words of encouragement. The Alliance hadn’t wanted to send her to jump zero, or “brain camp,” for the simple reason that her marksman scores were so high; so they kept her in infantry, letting her figure her biotics on her own as she went. That Batarian had been the first living being she’d killed with her biotics. He hadn’t been the last one that day, though; he was the first of around a hundred Batarians and other raced pirates, including other humans, that had invaded Elysium that Shepard had personally killed.

Shepard started to shiver, letting hot tears run down her face and into her cupping hands that were over her eyes. Her exposed torso was covered in cool sweat that was beginning to congeal as she leaned against the cold wall. The feeling of fear towards her biotics slowly crept back into her memory. Once the backup fleets finally stormed Elysium, Shepard had been carted off to a medical tent where she had sat, shivering, covered in blood of multiple races. The feeling she got when she flared her biotics had been such a power rush, taking over every facet of her brain. But it scared her. She hadn’t understood it at the time, and after the adrenaline had left her system, she started to go into shock from over exertion and guilt for taking so many lives; lives taken with the power that she barely understood.

In that moment, Shepard was mentally simultaneously in the Normandy’s engineering deck and in that med bay on Elysium. The emotions that ran through her mind were identical for a brief moment before she started to slap her cheeks with both hands. _You’re on the Normandy, goddammit! You. Are. On. The. Normandy! There are no batarians… that was James that you almost killed! Snap out of it!_

She could hear herself crying but couldn’t stop herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d had a flash back of the blitz. In fact, she’d been put on medical leave for 11 months after the battle on Elysium. She had gone through intensive therapy while she trained with a group of Asari matriarchs to hone her biotic skills. After being released and deemed fit for duty, she joined the N7 team. It was fairly often that during intense firefights, she’d start having flashbacks now and again. Only after a few emotionally tasking missions did her Commanding Officer teach her a trick that had gotten him through his own tough memories. Captain Joshua Beck had taught her the counting and breathing method she now so often relied on in stressful situations.

Shepard’s shoulders shook as she cried. Her entire body was shaking, cold as the sweat turned to frigid beads of water on her skin. She’d never had a flashback in the confines of her own ship while conscious. Every time it had happened she’d always been in an intense firefight on the ground or while she slept. She’d never once hurt one of her own team members before. _What the hell is happening to me,_ she thought, trying to rub her eyes to get the tears to stop.

_Reapers, Jane. That’s what’s happening._

Shepard leaned her head back, forcefully making contact with the wall behind her. _Fuck… I don’t need you right now!_

_Really? Who else is supposed to keep you in check?_

“NO!” She yelled, bringing taught hands up to her face, tugging the skin of her cheeks as she slowly moved her hands down, fingers slightly digging in. “You’re not real,” she whispered to herself.

_Hardly, Jane. I’m as real as you. If you’d just listen to me, you would have never been in this situation._

_You were quiet! For once, you were silent, and I was happy!_ she mentally yelled at her imaginary counterpart. _We were having fun! We were letting loose for the first time since the goddamned reapers hit Earth!_

_You let yourself get distracted! You have bigger things to worry about than troop morale! You have to find a way to destroy the reapers! To save all life as we know it!_

_Shut up! Shut up! I can’t fucking do this alone! I need a team—and to have a team there needs to be a good morale or people die!_

_It’s war, Jane. People are going to die!_

“SHUT UP!” she yelled, punching the floor with both of her hands. Pain seared through her right hand, the one she’d bloodied when she avoided hitting James, and the one she’d bloodied after denting the wall outside her quarters. Pain traveled up both arms, radiating in her elbows. She punched again with her left hand, trying to force out the voice in her head.

She sat there for a few moments, and there was nothing. Her head was silent. The tears finally stopped as she let out a slow breath. She started to simply count out loud, just over a whisper. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her whispered counting and systematic breathing.

She didn’t know how long she had been down there when she heard Jack’s familiar voice over the hum of the drive core. “Thought I’d find you here, Shepard.”

Shepard abruptly stopped counting as she brought her right hand up to her face, using the least bloodied part of the tank top that was still wrapped around her hand to wipe away what evidence she could of her since dried tears.

“Shi-it, you look like hell,” Jack’s voiced sounded quietly as Shepard spent more time than she needed to, trying to rub all the evidence out of her eyes that she had been crying.

Shepard heard the creak of the cot, assuming Jack had sat down across from her. Shepard didn’t move to look at her immediately. She rubbed her eyes for a moment longer, finally dragging her hand down her face as she leaned her head back on the wall again.

Jack let Shepard be for a few moments, before Shepard heard her rummage into her pockets. “Here, drink this. You need the calories.”

Shepard moved her head slightly forward, eyeing the bottle as she extended her hand out to grab it from Jack’s leaning posture. “What is it?” she asked, her voice sounding more gruff than she had expected.

“Just some juice,” Jack said. She moved from sitting on the cot to sitting on the floor in front of it, her legs coming to the left side of Shepard’s body. “Sanders made it pretty hard for me to smuggle booze aboard Grissom, or I’d be handing you a flask of that Volus swill we used to love drinking down here.”

Shepard let out a heavy sigh, kicking her legs out to be parallel to Jack’s. “Sounds like your liver should be more grateful to Sanders,” Shepard said, pulling the cap off of the juice and taking a long drink. It was an artificial juice that tried to imitate the taste of strawberries and bananas. Shepard had a moment of missing life of Mindoir, where the produce was fresh and had the best juices. The juice she drank left a filmy residue in her mouth.

“Alright, Shepard—be straight with me for a second: What the fuck was that all about?” Jack finally said after letting Shepard drink a few more mouthfuls of the unsatisfying juice.

Shepard still didn’t look at Jack… she couldn’t bring herself to see the look she knew was on Jack’s face. She was worried; it radiated in her voice. “What was what about?” she deflected, leaning her head back again, slightly closing her eyes.

“Don’t fuck with me, Shepard,” she said. Shepard heard her pull her legs up and heard the cot squeal from the movement of her leaning forward. Shepard opened a listless eye and glanced at her. Jack had brought her knees up, feet about shoulder width apart and her arms resting up on her knees. She was leaning forward, looking at Shepard with a scowl. “You looked like you were about ready to kill that meathead,” she continued. “Don’t get me wrong, I would have done the same, but it seemed pretty drastic for you.”

Shepard let out another sigh and then took another swig of the juice. “I don’t know, Jack.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at her, studying her face. “Shit—I never thought I’d be saying this to you, but cheer up, man. You being so down is unnerving as fuck. I’m the broody hull rat, remember?”

“Sorry,” was all Shepard responded with. Her body was exhausted. Her muscles were starting to relax again as her head pounded with a headache—punishment for over using her biotics. Her back was starting to feel clammy against the metal wall behind her.

“Don’t apologize to me, Shepard,” Jack said, moving across the floor to sit next to her. She sat crisscrossed to Shepard’s left, facing her, her back leaning on the leg of a small table covered by boxes. She was close enough that she could reach out and touch, or punch, Shepard if she felt like it. “Seriously though… what happened back there?” she asked softly.

Shepard chewed on her thoughts for a long moment, not sure how to breach the subject. She noticed the swelling in her lower lip from the hit she took from Vega. It probably wasn’t noticeable to anyone looking at her, but it was painful. Jack’s expression didn’t change. Finally, Shepard said, “Keep this between us, ok?”

“Sure. Who the hell would I rat you out to?” Jack said with a smirk, trying to break the tension.

Shepard took another long moment, trying to figure out what to say. “Do you… do you sometimes have arguments with yourself?” It wasn’t what Jack had asked, but she wanted to gauge Jack on it regardless. She wasn’t quite ready to open up about the moment in the shuttle bay that Jack was prodding about.

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Why?”

“I mean,” she started, trying to use her hands to help her think, not moving them in any specific motion, but just small movements as she spoke. “Do you argue with yourself in your head? And not the subconscious argument—like there is another person there, telling you how you need to change what you’re doing?

“Ah snap,” Jack laughed, lightly hitting Shepard on the arm. “Has the Commander finally gone crazy like the rest of us?”

Shepard closed her eyes. _This was a bad idea…_ she thought, clenching her jaw. “That’s not what I meant, Jack.”

Jack scoffed. “What, so you lost your shit on that meathead because a voice told you to or something?”

“What?!” Shepard’s eye shot open, looking worriedly at Jack. “No! He…” she started. She clenched her jaw again; she didn’t want to talk about her flash back, but she knew she needed to. Talk therapy had been one of the only effective methods of coping while she was going through therapy on the Citadel after the blitz. She closed her eyes and balled her fists, crunching the now empty bottle of juice. “He was a Batarian.”

“What?”

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh, pulling her head forward from the wall. She looked Jack square in the eyes. “James… he was a goddamned Batarian, Jack. He swiped my legs out from under me and when I hit the ground… It was like I was back on Elysium during the Blitz again, fighting a Batarian with my biotics for the first time.”

Jack opened her mouth slightly and blinked, letting Shepard’s words sink in. She then let out a low whistle. “Shit… normally I’d say that we need to take a couple of drinks. But if that’s what happened, then fuck, you better be staying away from the alcohol.”

Shepard let herself laugh darkly. “If only alcoholism solved problems,” she said, resting her head back on the wall again.

“Shit, Shepard, you gotta get help,” Jack said in all seriousness.

Shepard shook her head, closing her eyes in frustration. “I don’t have time for therapy, Jack. I have to find a way to save life as we know it.”

“Well, you won’t do anyone a damn bit of good if you’re in a constant state of delusion!” Jack retorted. “That’s my fucking job, remember. You’re the calm, cool, collected Commander Fucking Shepard. You don’t **_lose_** it.”

“I know,” she responded softly.

“So how’d you cope with it before?” Jack inquired, trying to find a resolution.

“Well,” Shepard thought, repositioning herself so that her back wasn’t so stiff against the wall, bringing her right leg up to rest her arm on her knee, but partly to bring warmth to her cold exposed torso. “Back when I was hunting down Saren, I talked to Ashley all of the time. When we were going after the collectors, well… I talked to you.”

Jack moved her head back as she narrowed her eyes. “I think I’d remember you telling me about people randomly transforming into Batarians before your eyes as you fought.”

Shepard let out a breath through her nose, noticing that her cheek and chin were starting to ache, probably forming a bruise from where James had connected. “I never actually talk about the shit I see, Jack. People would think I was crazy and I’d probably be locked up somewhere. But just talking to people… getting my mind off of missions and violence… that’s what helps.”

“Gotcha,” Jack said, nodding her head. “We did have some fun times down here, didn’t we?”

Shepard finally let herself smile, even if it was only for a second. “Yeah,”

“Alright, so you talked to the Alliance twig, and me. Who do you talk to now?”

Shepard shrugged. “No one, really. With you, we’re like siblings. We tell each other all kinds of crazy stuff, whether random, psychotic in your case, or emotional. With Ash… I trusted Ash with everything I had. She always had some damn poem to recite for every occasion. I… I loved her. I still do, I suppose,” she shrugged again. “Even though she never saw me that way, she was still there for me, no matter what—even after the tenth time I told her how I felt about her.”

“Yeah,” Jack chimed, “I remember you pinning on about her after the sixth shot of Turian whiskey when we made it back from Horizon.”

Shepard laughed, recalling the drunken night. It had still been early on in the whole collector mission, and she and Jack weren’t close yet. But after the events on Horizon, Shepard had decided to start drinking with Garrus in the port side observatory, when it still had the fully stocked bar in it (now it simply had tame beers and wines, nothing hard). Jack had come in, noticing that there was booze aplenty and had decided to listen in as she shot back a few drinks with the two teammates. Shepard had gone on and on, for what had seemed like hours, about how much she wished she could have convinced Ashley to come with them. How she was sure that **_this_** time, she’d finally convince her that she was as deeply in love with Shepard, as she was with her and how amazing she thought the sex would be. Jack had remembered how surprised Garrus had been throughout the whole drunken conversation. He had apparently thought that Shepard was into him, up until that night. As Shepard was starting to pass out, she leaned against Jack, closing her eyes as her head rested on her shoulder. Jack made some comment to Garrus about how Shepard was just a goody-two-shoe who was nice to everyone, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was as gay as they came. Garrus eventually carried Shepard to her cabin, Jack hitting the buttons along the way.

Shepard continued to laugh, “God I was a mess that night.”

“Shit, you were a mess the next morning! You looked deader than a friggin’ husk as you tried to eat your damn cereal,” Jack said, returning the laughter. “Do you remember asking everyone to speak quieter and to not move so fast around you?”

They both laughed, releasing all the tension out of the small alcove. “And the look on Mordin’s face when he realized what had happened. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sing so loudly and so off key in my life.”

“And the dance!” Jack said, clutching her stomach as she leaned to the side, tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes from the constant laughing. “The way he practically fluttered around you until you finally lost it into your bowl.”

What they were saying wasn’t all that funny, but given the situation, Shepard welcomed the uncontrollable laughter to the alternative of crying. They continued laughing, unable to stop for some time. They’d try to stop laughing and then they’d look at each other just right, and the laughing would start in full force again. Finally after about two or so minutes of laughter, as she caught her breath Shepard put her hand on Jack’s leg. “Thanks, Jack,” she said, one final laugh escaping her throat. “I needed that.”

Jack grinned, squeezing Shepard’s hand in hers for a brief moment, and then letting go. She’d never really been one for physical contact, but that fact that she’d returned the gestured meant that Jack really did love Shepard, in her own, violent, psychotic sibling kind of way. “Anytime.”

Shepard moved her hand from Jack’s leg, and tilted her head onto her left shoulder, looking at Jack. “I wish you could stay on the Normandy. God knows I could use you around here.”

Jack gave a sad smirk. “Me too… But those kids need me, Shepard.”

“I know they do. They’d be completely lost in this war without you,” Shepard said, returning a somber smile. “I know they didn’t like it—but they’ll be safest as support.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I know. And thanks for that, by the way.”

They shared a few moments of silence, looking around the small alcove that Jack used to call her quarters. There were so many good memories here.

“Damn, Shepard, you’re seriously the master of deflection!” Jack said, kicking out her leg to make gentle contact with Shepard’s left knee.

“What?!” she asked, wincing; Jack hadn’t kicked her hard, but her knees still stung from her collision with the shuttle bay floor.

“We were trying to figure out who you could talk to,” Jack said, giving Shepard a look that her mother had notoriously used on her when she was trying to make her feel guilty growing up.

“Hey—you were the one who brought up my drunken antics.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off. “But seriously, who can you talk to around here?”

Shepard thought for a moment. Maybe she could talk to Liara—but that was no good. She still had the feeling that Liara had unrequited affections towards her. She’d never understood why Shepard hadn’t wanted to be with her. Liara’s fascination with the prothean beacon information embedded in her memory had been a huge turn off when they’d met. That mixed with her outward forwardness about how she thought they should be together had been too much for Shepard. And Liara just wasn’t as easy to talk to as Ash had been. She checked Liara off of the list.

_What about Garrus?_ she thought. She didn’t really have a reason as to why she didn’t talk to him. He was the guy she’d go to and swap war stories with. They were, as they say, bros. She couldn’t see just lounging around in the observation deck listening to one another talk about whatever whimsy they were thinking of or emotional struggle they were going through. She checked Garrus off of the list.

She immediately checked Dr. Chakwas off the list as she floated into her mind. She knew that she wasn’t a physiatrist, but she had had her fill of medical professionals while in therapy on the Citadel. Joker was constantly flying the Normandy, so he was an automatic no.

“What about that British chick?” Jack suggested.

“British chick?” Shepard asked. “You mean Samantha?”

“I don’t fucking know her name—the one that was next to your shuttle pilot in the shuttle bay. She seemed to fancy talking to you,” she responded playfully.

Shepard tilted her head to the side, chewing on the thought. _I_ **do** _enjoy talking with her when she’s around . . ._ she thought. _But do I really want her to be subjected to my crazy emotional pendulum? She deserves someone who’s stable…_

_It’s not like having routine conversation with her means you’re suddenly in a relationship with her…_

_But I feel that if I get to know her… I’ll want to be with her. And she’s probably not even single anyway. And what about Ash? I still love her… why I am even thinking of the Specialist that way?_ “Shit, Jack, I don—”

Shepard was interrupted by the lights suddenly dimming substantially and then slowly coming back up to full power. The drive core also looked like it had powered down for a moment before kicking back in. Joker’s voice blared over the intercom, echoing loudly in the metal confines of the alcove they were in. “Commander, EDI just went off line!”

Shepard looked around anxiously. “What do you mean “offline”?”

“I dunno, she’s not responding,” he responded frantically. “I can’t access the AI core diagnostics. You better get to deck three.”

“Fuck,” Shepard said as she jumped up to her feet. _The mech’s body is in there,_ she thought, panic reawakening her muscles as she struggled with her crumpled tank top, trying to get it over her head. All of her muscles still hurt, and not to mention her hands were beginning to become extremely stiff from all the floor punching she’d done within the last hour or so.

Jack jumped up with her, both of them running towards the stairs together.

Shepard was worried about what could possibly be going on with EDI, or the potential that the Cerberus mech had somehow rebooted. But a small part of her dreaded the fact that the AI core was in the back of the med bay. It meant she was probably going to have to confront Dr. Chakwas.

* * *

Samantha’s mouth was still hanging slightly ajar when Shepard was cut from view as the elevator doors slid shut. She immediately looked to Steve, and they shared perplexed expressions. She still couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. Whatever James’ reason for wanting to fight with Shepard, Samantha was almost positive that this wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

She glanced at him as he leaned on the opposite side of the requisitions table. He had his hand up on his jaw rubbing his chin. He’d retrieved his shirt and had apparently used it to wipe the blood from his nose.

Samantha wanted to yell at him, for getting so personal and angry during something that was meant to be entertaining and a good time—but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She herself was still feeling the whiplash effect on the sudden change in mood that had occurred in the shuttle bay. One moment, everything was fine and fun; Shepard even came up to her to talk and seemed more interested than usual. But the things that James had been yelling about, about running around the galaxy on glorified errands for the council, rang true to Samantha; and she was sure it touched on a nerve of every crew member in the shuttle bay. What were they really accomplishing out here that was going to help them back on Earth? She knew what they were doing would eventually help Earth, but would there be an Earth to save by the time they accomplished everything?

Some of the students started nervously whispering amongst themselves. Dr. T’Soni and Dr. Chakwas were sharing a worried look. Garrus, for once, looked confused and deep in thought. Jack, however, simply started braking orders at her students. “Alright—that’s enough excitement for one day. Everyone to the starboard observatory, pronto! If I find anyone wondering about the ship, aside from a bathroom run, you’ll be doing a wall squats until we dock at the Citadel!”

The students didn’t bother complaining. They were just as confused as Samantha was. The things that James had yelled about to Shepard were probably what the crew had already been thinking; but the war efforts were new knowledge to the students. The students continued quietly talking amongst themselves, queuing up to load the elevator. It came back rather quickly, allowing the first set of students to board. As they boarded, Jack slowly started walking backwards, towards the open space of the shuttle bay. By the time the elevator came back and the final students boarded, Jack was just a few feet away from James, who had been curiously watching her approach.

As soon as the elevator doors closed for the final time, Jack spun around and punched James’ square in the nose. “What the fuck was that, you thick headed meatstick?!” She yelled at him, continuing to invade his space.

Garrus ran up and grabbed Jack from behind as she tried to swing at James again, who had gone down to one knee with a vulgar grunt of protest, holding his nose.

“Cool it, Zero,” Garrus said, lifting Jack away from James. “We’ve had enough for one day.”

“Lemme go, Archangel!” She yelled, kicking out as Garrus carried her a few feet away.

“Enough! All of you,” Dr. T’Soni yelled, a small flare of her biotic emanating from her fists.

Samantha and Steve both went into attention, standing from their leaning positions and bringing their hands to their sides. Samantha had an urge to go into a full falute, but noticed that Steve didn’t, so she remained still. Dr. T’Soni yelled with an air of authority that neither of them had heard from her before. Samantha was also having a hard time, keeping track of the different names that Garrus and Jack were using. Steve looked equally confused, also not being a part of the previous Normandy team.

Samantha glanced at Dr. Chakwas, who looked extremely displeased, as she walked up to James who was still crouched on the floor cupping his nose.

Garrus finally let go of Jack, but kept his hands at the ready to grab her in case she tried to go for James again. Dr. T’Soni put a delicate hand to her forehead, looking off into the distance in the shuttle bay.

Samantha wanted to say something, but didn’t feel that anything that she had to say would ease the tense feeling emanating around her; so she quietly stood next to Steve, feeling like they were small children in school, caught in the crossfire of a teacher scolding another student.

Dr. Chakwas roughly pulled James to his feet. He came up, staggering only slightly. With her activated omni-tool, she scanned his face. Her frown deepened as she moved the omni-tool away. “This will hurt,” was all she said, bringing her hand up to James’ nose and shooing his hands gently out of the way. She took hold of the bridge of his nose, and wrenched it to the side, setting it back in place.

Samantha and Steven both cringed, as more blood started to surge from James’ nose. Samantha’s stomach gave a jolt, threatening to revolt against the amount of blood that was now gushing from James’ face. She glanced at Jack, trying to force her stomach to not react too violently; Jack was sneering, knowing that whatever she’d done had been the reason his nose had broken. She shook her head and then said, “I’m going to go find Shepard. If I see this guy anywhere—”

“Yeah, yeah we know, Zero,” Garrus said, cutting her off as she moved to walk away.

Jack threw up her middle finger on her right hand as she walked away. The elevator doors opened almost immediately and she walked in, looking back out and shaking her head as the doors closed.

Dr. T’Soni and Garrus shared a concerned look.

“Fuck!” James finally moaned, bringing his shirt up to his face. “Isn’t there a better way of doing that?”

“I could very well ask you the same thing, Mr. Vega,” Dr. Chakwas responded haughtily. Samantha noticed that Dr. Chakwas’ accent became slightly more pronounced in her angered state, much like her own mother’s did when Samantha was growing up.

James’ shirt was slowly soaking the blood from his nose, permanently staining the white fabric. It was easier to look at, not causing Samantha’s stomach to turn. “What?” James asked, genuinely confused by what Dr. Chakwas had said.

“Was that necessary?! Asking Shepard to fight with you?”

“Okay, so my timing isn’t the best,” he said, his voice sounded as if he was suffering from a cold. “But sometimes you just gotta fight it out.”

Dr. Chakwas’ hands balled into fists. “Not with your Commanding Officer who’s quite possibly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder!”

“What?” Samantha heard herself and Steve ask simultaneously while James asked “Post-traumatic what what?"

“How else do you explain what happened?” Garrus offered. “She looked like she was seeing something else the way that she threw you and then pinned you to the floor, Vega. She probably would have killed you had she not snapped out of whatever it was when she did.”

“Precisely,” Dr. T’Soni added, nodding her head, moving her hands as she spoke. “Commander Shepard has had many violent run ins during her military career. It is quite possible that you did something to trigger one of her memories, forcing her to relive it as she finished fighting you,” she said to James. She closed her eyes and shook her blue head, crossing her left arm across her stomach and bringing a curious right hand up to her face, her forefinger resting on her temple. “That’s why these crew brawls are never a good idea.”

“Well,” Garrus started, as it there was something humorous about what she’d said. “Sometimes good things can come from them.”

“It seems an awful lot like playing Russian roulette,” Samantha voiced, trying to become a part of the conversation. Dr. T’Soni and Garrus both looked at her, confused. Samantha shook her head, moving past the human saying that was apparently lost on the aliens in front of her. “It’s just that I understand the need to fight it out, like you say James.”

“Thank you,” James mumbled.

“But—when you’re brawling with any number of soldiers, you run the risk of something like this happening,” she shrugged, hugging herself. Samantha knew from her own experience that not all outbursts of PTSD were that of a violent nature. She, for example, simply would freeze and because utterly helpless. Granted, she hadn’t had an episode in quite some time, but every once in a while she’d feel the unwarranted fear crawling up her neck for no reason at all. 

James’ shrugged. “We’re soldiers. We learn from it and move on.”

Dr. Chakwas angrily pursed her lips, glaring up at James’ face. “And that, Mr. Vega, is where you’re wrong. Post-traumatic stress disorder is not something that you can just **_shrug_** off. It has serious mental health implications. It is something that requires treatment, not punches to the face!”

“Then why are you yelling at me?” James spat back, apparently tired of being scolded. “She’s the one who might be suffering from it, not me. How am I supposed to know that the legendary Commander Shepard has violent outbursts when she falls on her ass?”

Dr. Chakwas opened her mouth and then closed it, her face falling from her previous anger. She obviously knew that James had a point, even if she was still mad at him. “I’m sorry, James. You’re right. Here,” she said, turning to stand next to him and putting a gentle hand on his back. “Come with me and I’ll clean you up properly.”

For a moment, it looked like James was about to refuse, but then he noticed how much blood had actually seeped onto his shirt. He nodded his head and the two began to walk towards the elevator.

The four remaining crew members watched them walk in silence. Once the doors slide shut behind them Samantha heard Steve let out a low whistle. Everyone turned a quizzical expression towards him. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, looking almost traumatized himself.

Garrus shrugged, walking closer to the requisitions table. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. You’ve seen his piss poor attitude on missions,” he said, notably directed at Steve. “I, for one, am glad Shepard finally knocked some sense in to him.”

“She could have killed him!” Dr. T’Soni said harshly as she walked forward as well. Samantha was surprised that the two were walking towards her and Steve. It was probably more because Steve was standing there, and he was an essential member of their team. But Samantha welcomed what sounded to be a group discussion. She hadn’t been a part of one since leaving Earth.

Garrus and Liara came to a stop a few feet in front of the requisitions table. “Well, it was either Shepard kill him, knock sense into him, or he was well on his way to getting himself killed on the next mission,” Garrus responded coldly.

“He has been doing some pretty drastic things while groundside,” Steve responded, casually crossing his arms back over his stomach.

Samantha felt a small sting of jealousy; Steve knew the crew, well enough to have conversations about missions. Samantha was simply the tech girl ship side who monitored comms and messages. _Really… I could be replaced by EDI and no one would be the wiser,_ she thought darkly as she leaned back against the table next to Steve, putting her hands on the table’s ledge.

“That’s still no excuse for the only option to correct his actions being violence,” Dr. T’Soni said, anger still in her voice.

“Liara, calm down,” Garrus said, shaking his head. “It isn’t an uncommon practice on active war ships. Hell—some of my best memories are from sparing sessions aboard ships.” He smiled at that, recalling a memory.

“I dunno,” Samantha finally spoke up. “I think it is still dangerous.”

“Thank you, Samantha,” the asari said with a friendly smile towards her.

Samantha blinked, taken aback by the fact that Dr. T’Soni, apparently Liara, had used her first name. She didn’t remember having introduced herself. . .

Steve shook his head before Samantha’s thought could continue and said, “Looks like it is boys versus the girls on this one. All in all,” he continued before anyone could get in a word in edge wise. “I don’t think anyone was in the right. Vega was way out of line. But maybe it’ll force Shepard to get the help she needs.”

Samantha let her eyebrows rise. “You think she needs help?” Steve and Liara nodded, while Garrus simply gave an indecisive shrug. “Why?”

Liara spoke first. “Shepard has seen and experienced things that no other living being could possibly imagine. She not only has her own personal memories of war and bloodshed, but the memories of the whole prothean race as well. I’m surprised we haven’t noticed symptoms sooner, to be honest.”

Along with being confused as to the reference of the prothean race memories, Samantha was surprised at how animatedly Liara spoke, articulating most of her words with different hand motions, usually ending a thought by bringing a curious hand to her chin. With how much her hands moved, it was almost distracting.

“She’s a goddamn war hero,” Garrus said smugly. “She isn’t going to willingly seek medical help. Career military rarely do.”

“Then we need to make sure she gets it,” Liara said pointedly towards Garrus.

Samantha stood there for a moment as she tried to figure out what to say to get everyone off topic. Usually she was quick witted enough that things just poured out before she could stop it. But the thought that Shepard’s mental health was in jeopardy made it difficult for Samantha to warrant poking fun at anything.

Garrus snarled, waving a dismissive hand at Liara. “Right, because the reapers will sit back and wait while Shepard goes to Alliance mandated therapy. We’re at war, Liara. People are dying. Or has that not yet hit you because the reapers haven’t honed in on Thesia yet?” Liara paled at the accusation, but pursed her lips and bowed her head in silence. It was enough for Garrus; he shook his head and started to abruptly walk towards the elevators. “I have guns to calibrate.”

Samantha wanted to repeat her joke about reaper disintegration mode from the day before, but kept quiet. _How could this day turnabout so quickly?_ she thought to herself as she watched Garrus storm away. Once he was whisked away by the elevator, Samantha’s gaze fell to the empty shuttle floor space where the fights had occurred, chewing on the inside of her lip. _The shuttle bay was alive with excitement and happiness not fifteen minutes ago… had James not pursued wanting to brawl with Shepard, we’d all still be laughing and joking. And I might even still be talking to Shepard…_ Her thoughts drifted away. She had been excited that she had come up to talk to her. For once she hadn’t felt like a bumbling idiot, stumbling over her words or suppressing sexual thoughts. Sure, she’d taken a long look at the Commander when she had lifted her shirt to wipe her face, and again when she completely stripped the shirt to fight Vega—but for once it hadn’t outwardly or completely flustered her.

Steve straightened his posture, standing up from his leaning position. “Well, I should get back to it,” he said, lightly patting Samantha’s back.

“Right, you have to fix the Kodiak before lesbian boobs Mr. Vega has a chance to run it into the ground again, eh?” Samantha attempted to joke back. It wasn’t her wittiest comment, not by a long shot, but she desperately wanted to hear someone laugh.

Steve chuckled as he started to walk back towards the desk that had all the Kodiak parts displaced atop it. “You’re never going to let him live that down, are you?”

“Never,” she smiled, raising her voice making sure that he heard. She turned her attention tentatively towards Liara, who was still standing in front of her. She had a curious expression on her face, looking straight into Samantha’s eyes. She blinked a few times, unsure what Liara was thinking.

Liara cleared her voice, shaking the curious expression off of her face. “Samantha, Glyph told me that you stopped by.”

Samantha blinked. She’d almost forgotten that she’d wanted to talk with Liara. “Oh, yeah. But it wasn’t for anything important.”

“Oh,” she responded simply. “Did you still need to talk to me? I have some down time before my next… um… report needs my attention,” she clamored.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. It was apparent that Liara wasn’t a very good liar, but what did she have to lie about? Samantha had seen Liara’s quarters with all the vid screens and consoles. Whatever it was that she did for the Normandy crew, Samantha was pretty sure it wasn’t just simple reporting to the Alliance or Citadel Council. “It almost seems silly now, after everything that’s happened,” Samantha said, moving up from her leaning position.

“Maybe we could all use a little silly right about now,” Liara smiled.

Samantha returned the smile, but it was more of a melancholic smile than her usual beaming one. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Liara took a step to the side, bringing her left hand up by her stomach, motioning towards the elevators. “Shall we go to my quarters?”

“Sure,” Samantha said, taking a few steps out. She sped up her pace when Liara started walking as well.

They walked together to the elevator and rode it to deck three in silence. Liara seemed to be lost in thought and Samantha was unsure how to start up any small talk, considering she knew nothing about Liara. Until about three minutes ago, she hadn’t even know her first name. So far, the Normandy’s mission schedule hadn’t allowed much time for crew introductions. Samantha got their last name to populate when they’re comm. feed was established and that was about it.

As they stepped off of the elevator and turned towards the port side of the ship, Samantha caught herself glancing towards the observation deck. She let out a quiet sigh and looked forward, following Liara to her quarters. She was hopeful that she’d see Shepard walking into or out of the observation deck, but she knew that it was silly to think. She wouldn’t be anywhere that had public access. It’s the same way she thought after she had a flash back from the Collectors on Horizon: she’d disappear somewhere in her apartment or at work where no one ever thought to look for her. Some small space where she couldn’t be taken by surprise if someone did locate her. As the doors slid open to Liara’s quarters, Samantha couldn’t help but imagine Shepard curled up in some ball in a closet like she’d done her first few times dealing with her flashbacks. _This is Commander Shepard… she doesn’t cower like you do,_ she thought to herself as the doors slid shut behind her. _Or does she?_

She was startled from her thoughts by Glyph’s peppy synthetic voice. “Welcome back, Dr. T’Soni. Good evening, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor.”

Samantha blinked up at him (she assumed as his synthetic voice was very masculine), as he floated around in front of the two women. “Please, Glyph, just call me Samantha.”

The VI hovered for a moment, the outside circles rotating a little as it moved what Samantha thought to be his front towards Liara. Liara smiled and gave a nod. Glyph’s body moved back to face Samantha. “Of course, Samantha,” and he floated away towards a console on the port side of the room.

_If only getting Shepard to call me that all the time was so easy,_ she thought to herself as she continued to walk into the room. A constant hum from all of the electronics filled the air. Liara walked in front of her, headed towards the small personal area in the rear of the room. Samantha slowly walked after her, cautiously stealing glances at the many vid screens and consoles. Most the vid screens seemed to be in a screen saver mode, while the consoles were all running some sort of program: text streamed across every console as she walked by.

Liara reached her personal quarter’s area of the room, partitioned off my two thick glass panels that were open in the middle. Samantha knew that her personal area was small, but it was more room than she had to herself in the crew quarters. A double sized bed was in the middle, a small recliner and kitchenette area to the starboard side, and couch that fit perfectly between the glass and metal wall that sat under the port side with a small port-window on the wall. It was cozy and clean. Liara was standing by the kitchenette area and was pulling down a mug from a shelf. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

Samantha smiled as she stepped through the glass-pane partition, entering the cozy area. “That would be lovely,” she said. Being offered tea made her think of her mother, which was always a comforting feeling to her.

Liara nodded, pulling down another cup. She tapped a button on a small kettle that immediately started to produce steam vapors. She then opened a small jar, pulling out two tea bags. “Do you drink your tea straight, or do you prefer something in it?”

Samantha was tempted to say that doesn’t do anything “straight,” but refrained. She didn’t know Liara’s humor well enough to start throwing around her witty comments, not that that usually stopped her. But there was something about the setup of Liara’s quarters that made Samantha feel that Liara was a no-nonsense person. “Oh, no. I like my tea plain,” she said as a half-truth. Usually she’d drink it with milk and honey in it, but she didn’t want to be too particular. That and the chances of the Normandy being stocked with either were slim.

Liara nodded again, not pulling anything else out. She grabbed the steaming kettle and poured water into both mugs. She turned around, one mug in each hand and walked towards the couch, sitting on the end of the couch nearest the metal of the back wall.

Samantha took the cue to sit next to her, graciously taking the mug. “Thank you,” she said, grabbing the string of the tea bag and gently pulling on it so that the tea started to steep faster as she forced it to bob up and down.

“Of course. So few people on the Normandy drink tea. It’s refreshing to be able to share a cup with someone,” Liara said with a smile.

“Well, next time we’re on the Citadel I’ll make sure to pick up a tea set. We can sit down whenever you like,” Samantha joked in response.

Liara let her smile widened. “If only we could do that at our leisure,” she said morosely.

Samantha frowned; her attempt to lighten the already awkward mood between her and Liara had fallen flat. She continued moving the tea bag in her mug, looking down and watching the color of the strong black tea seep out of the sachet and into the water—like watching paint being dropped into clear rinse cup.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Liara asked after a moment of silence.

“Oh,” Samantha said, slightly startled. “Well, in all honesty, I stopped by to ask you a few questions about Commander Shepard,” Samantha said, not making eye contact with Liara.

Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha noticed Liara blink and tilt her head to the side ever so slightly. “Why did you want to ask me?”

Samantha shrugged, watching the color of her mug darken as the tea continued to steep. “Honestly, I don’t know. You were the first person who came to mind when the questions started to pop up in my head.” Samantha brought her mug to her nose, smelling the tea. It was a strong black tea that almost smelled like the blend her father was known for drinking. But the smell wasn’t strong enough, so it wasn’t done steeping. “I tried to look into her file, but it’s all classified. And what isn’t classified is heavily redacted.”

Liara took a slow, cautious sip of her tea. Apparently it was to her liking already. “With my experience,” she said, bringing her cup down to her lap with both hands were clasped around it. “Shepard dislikes people going behind her back to find out information.”

“Does she?” Samantha gulped.

Liara nodded. “After I first met Shepard, I looked up her service record because I knew nothing about her. I was a simple archeologist then, and my people skills were not what they are today,” she said with a smile that told she was recalling a memory. “I’d made a fool of myself in a previous conversation with her and decided to look up her record to see if I couldn’t gain some sort of insight into her being. But when I mentioned it to her the next time she and I spoke, she was greatly offended that I hadn’t simply asked her in the first place.”

Samantha was taken by how little Liara moved her hands while she spoke. In the shuttle bay, everything had been articulated with some motion of her hands. But her hands stayed cupping her tea in her lap, while the expression on her face seemed sad.

“But she can be hard to talk to, I suppose,” Liara continued. “She’s always deflecting questions back onto the people she’s talking with, never really revealing much about herself.”

Samantha nodded, finally trying a sip of her tea. It was wonderful; full of rich flavor with a hint of orange. It was similar to the earl grey tea her father drank, but not as bitter. “I’ve gathered as much. She and I have only talked a few times. The one time I asked her a personal question she flat out told me we weren’t talking about her.”

Liara smiled with a silent laugh. “Ah yes, she does that. She’s more interested in knowing what’s going on with her crew. She’s always made a point of checking in with everyone after a mission to make sure that we were all alright. And not just physically, but mentally, too.” Her smiled turned into a soft frown. “She even came about to see me after every debriefing we had, and after each mission.”

Samantha took another sip of the tea. She was glad that Liara was actually turning out to be easy to talk to. “Why wouldn’t she come to see you?”

Liara took in a sigh, still cupping her mug in her hands. “You could say that there was an awkward tension between us. That and the rest of the crew had put it into her head that I was more interested in the prothean beacon information in her brain than I was her.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Prothean beacon information?”

Liara nodded, and paused for a moment. She quickly realized that Samantha needed to be caught up. “Shepard found a few prothean artifacts that turned out to be beacons—devices that protheans used to transfer their memories to one another,” she added when she saw the confused look on Samantha’s brow. “I spent most of my life studying the protheans. Shepard actually saved me while I was on a dig sight on Therum. But being on dig sights and researching up until I met Shepard and joined the Normandy left me with very little experience in how to deal with people. Especially humans. I could always tell that she was slightly uncomfortable around me.”

“So she never opened up to you about anything?” Samantha asked, taking in another sip of tea as she finished speaking.

“Shepard’s never really been one to let others in. Ashley was the exception to that, I suppose.”

“Ashley? The one that the Cerberus mech almost killed on mars?”

Liara brought her mug up to her lips and took a long drink. As she brought the mug down, she said, “Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams.” Her eyes were distant and what was left of her smile had disappeared.

“I take it you don’t much like her,” Samantha inquired.

“What, oh goddess no,” Liara shook her head. “Ashley is a wonderful person. A bit naïve and a bit tarnished towards other species, but she’s always been friendly.” She brought her mug up to her lips to take another sip but she stopped, bringing it down abruptly. “It’s just that Ashley is the one person Shepard can’t have, romantically speaking. But she’s the one that Shepard has always seemed to love.”

The frustration in Liara’s voice took Samantha by surprise, as did what she was saying. _Shepard’s in love with someone?_ She did what she could to not let her own face reveal her disheartened emotion. “Are you jealous?” Samantha asked in a humorous tone. She was actually glad at what she was hearing. Ashley was obviously a woman. And if Shepard had feelings for her, then that meant that she wasn’t straight, which put a small glimmer of hope back into Samantha’s chest.

Liara brought a nervous hand up to her neck as she looked Samantha in the eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re easy to talk to?”

Samantha laughed. “Sure—but don’t pull a Shepard and deflect the question now.”

Liara laughed. “Pull a Shepard. I like that,” she said, bringing her hand down to cup her mug again. “I guess I was jealous at one point, although that is all in the past. Shepard is a very charismatic woman. Anyone who speaks with her feels special while she’s talking to them. She has a way of making you feel wanted, important, and… well… loved.” Liara’s voice grew softer as she continued on.

Samantha forced herself to take a long sip of her tea to hide what she knew her face was showing. Shepard made her feel those silly butterflies in her stomach whenever she spoke to her. And the comment she made the night before, about not letting the war change her, it had all felt genuine. It had all made Samantha so confused. Did she actually have feelings for Shepard, or was Shepard’s charismatic nature making her see or feel things that weren’t really there. “Did…did you think she was in love with you?”

Liara laughed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this,” she paused, eyeing Samantha. “But yes. When she and I first met, I thought that there was something between us. When I brought it up, Shepard immediately shot me down, apologizing for giving me the wrong idea,” she shook her head and moved her fingers while they continued to hold her mug. “After talking with Garrus, he too apparently thought that Shepard was in love with him while they were working with Cerberus. I’m sure if you asked any member of her team, they’d all say that at one point or another, they all thought that Shepard had feelings for them.”

Samantha’s stomach suddenly felt empty. It was an unpleasant feeling that she’d only felt once before—after Natalie broke up with her so abruptly, through email, for the final time. She thought that it was a bit drastic, to be feeling so empty about a woman who she hardly knew and was most definitely not romantically involved with. Attempting to get rid of the feeling, she said, “So she’s the Alliance heartthrob.”

Liara smiled. “You could say that. But one thing is for sure—even if she doesn’t romantically love the people on her crew, I think she cares deeply for each and every one of them. She’s a good leader. She’s the most selfless being I’ve ever met. I guess I finally got over the fact that I couldn’t be with her by telling myself that I at least was a part of her life in some small way.”

Samantha smiled as she continued to try and hide the feelings and thought swirling around in her head. “That’s awfully wise for someone so young.”

Liara laughed daintily. “Well, I am only 109.”

Samantha sputtered into her tea as she took a sip.  “Only?”

“Remember, we asari live for a thousand years. I’m still considered barely more than a teenager among my people.”

“Well, I hope I look as good as you do when I’m in my hundreds,” Samantha said with a smile.

“Interesting, that’s the same thing Ashley said when she heard my age.”

Samantha gave her a playful wave. “Female humans all want to have perky boobs when we’re older. Makes sure we’ll still get some kind of action, I guess.”

Liara blinked a few times before she let herself laugh. Samantha felt the heat in her cheeks rise. It probably came off as her flirting with Liara, but she was just trying to be her witty self. The emotions that were running through her head since the incident in the shuttle bay had thrown her mood, making it almost impossible for her to be herself. Idly sitting and having a casual cup of tea was helpful, though.

“I’m flattered that you find my breasts… perky,” Liara amusedly said. She leaned forward and put her mug on the small coffee table, bringing her right leg up over her left. “So why are you so curious about Commander Shepard? Have you been getting mixed signals from her?”

It was Samantha’s turn to laugh. It came off more nervous than she had intended it to, but she had to attempt to cover up that Liara had hit it right on the money. “Oh you know—just trying to get a feel for what people think about her. She seems nice,” she said. She wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t answering Liara’s question either. Liara seemed to see right through it. But she continued anyway. “I guess I was just curious as to why she has the absolute devotion from her team. From what I’ve seen so far, she is an amazing Commander, and a tactical genius. But being shipside, I only get to hear so mu—” Samantha was cut off by the power suddenly dimming in the cabin.  “This again?!”

The consoles in the other part of the room began beeping, and the vid screens went blue. Samantha quickly glanced at Liara, who looked worried. They both stood and walked into the main cabin area. The power was back up, but the power fluctuation was the biggest one yet.

“Glyph,” Liara said urgently. “What is going on?”

“Dr. T’Soni, Pilot Moreau has just summoned Commander Shepard to the AI core. The AI, referred to as EDI, has gone offline.”

Liara paled. “Oh no.”

Samantha looked from Glyph to Liara. “I understand that EDI going off line is an issue, but why do you make it sound like it’s a death sentence?”

Liara walked over to a desk and pulled out a pistol. “Dr. Eva Coré…the Cerberus mech is being stored in the AI core.”

Samantha felt her heart stop. This was bad.

* * *

The elevator doors opened, letting Shepard and Jack run out. Jack stayed behind, making sure that none of her students tried to get in the way. Shepard sprinted towards the med bay. Smoke was pouring out of the AI core and settling on the ceiling of the med bay. Dr. Chakwas was being escorted out by a crew member as Shepard ran in.

As she entered the med bay and slowed her run to a walk, she heard a loud hissing noise suddenly reverberate from behind the AI core doors. “What’s that sound?” she asked, gently flaring her biotics. They were still weak, and she was probably not fit for a fight, but she had to protect her crew.

“Fire extinguishers, Commander,” Joker’s voice sounded through the speakers in the ceiling. “Could be an electrical fire… or something.” It was apparent in his voice that he was worried about the Cerberus mech as well.

Shepard looked to Engineer Adams, who stood ready with a fire extinguisher in one hand and his omni-tool active in the other. “Automated systems have the fires contained. It should be safe to enter.”

Shepard nodded to him. “I’m going in.”

Adams moved forward, overriding the doors with his omni-tool. It was slow, but the doors finally crawled open. Shepard steadied what little biotic power she had left, ready to cover Adams if Dr. Eva’s mech suddenly appeared. Once he could walk through, Adams stepped forward as the smoke billowed out in the med bay. Small fires were present on the ground, and some were on the side wall. He began to extinguish the fires as Shepard walked closely in behind him. “EDI—talk to me.”

The whirling sounds of fans kicked in, and the blue lights of the AI core came back online. Over the sound of the fans, Adams and the extinguisher, Shepard heard the faint sound of heels clicking on the floor. In a moment of panic, Shepard grabbed Adams by the shoulder and pulled him behind her, flaring her barrier and waited for energy to throw a flare.

“Is there a particular topic you wish to discuss, Shepard?” EDI’s voice sounded.

Shepard lowered her biotic barrier, but still kept her hand outstretched for Adams to stay behind her. Slowly, as the smoke was sucked out of the room, Shepard could see the faint outline of the mech, but it was slowly walking towards her.

“EDI?” Shepard asked, squinting through the smoke. The mech came into full view and stopped, crossing it’s arms over it’s stomach and leaning slightly back on one leg. The mech’s body was streamlined and had curves in all of the right places. Had the body been a human, Shepard would have admittedly stared; but knowing that it was a mech made Shepard keep her composure. Adams had moved forward ever so slightly with his gun raised. Shepard put her hand on his gun, making him lower it.

The mech spoke. “Yes,” came out in EDI’s iconic synthetic voice.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. What the hell happened in here…

* * *

The door wouldn’t open to their summons. Samantha pried the control panel off of the wall to see if she could hot wire the door to open. She was the closest thing they had to an AI specialist on board. She had to get out there. Best case scenario, something was malfunctioning in the AI hardware and the mech was still lifeless. Worst case scenario… she didn’t want to admit what that might be.

“Allow me, Samantha,” Glyph sounded as he hovered by Samantha’s shoulder, after she’d been at it for a minute or so.

She eyed him for brief moment before moving to the side. He floated in from of the exposed panel and then dematerialized into the panel. Before Samantha had a chance to glance at Liara, the doors slide open. “Why didn’t we do that to begin with?” She asked as she and Liara darted from the room.

Liara didn’t respond. As they rounded the corner of the alcove that her quarters were set back into, she came to a stop, putting a hand out to stop Samantha as well. Looking up, Samantha saw that there was residual smoke floating from the med bay’s open doors.

“Here,” Liara said abruptly, handing Samantha her pistol.

“What? No,” Samantha said, pulling her hands away from the offered gun. “No, I’m a terrible shot. I’ll just hang back.”

Liara nodded. She went into a slight crouch as she walked, darting across the mess hall. Samantha clung to the alcove partition, half her body shielded by the wall, and watched. As Liara crouched underneath the med bay windows that looked into the mess hall, Samantha saw two figures move out of the AI core. They were calmly walking, but it was unclear as to who they were due to all the residual smoke in the room.

Liara took in a deep breath and looked as if she was about to roll the corner. Before she did so, she made eye contact with Samantha, possibly trying to check if it was clear. Samantha looked from her to the two walking figures rapidly. She bit her lower lip and brought her right hand up in a closed fist, trying to tell Liara to hold her position.

It worked. Liara nodded and flattened her back where she was. Samantha let out a shaky breath as she continued to hide and watch at the same time.

The two figures were getting closer to the doors. Samantha had the urge to bite her nails, but didn’t. She was Liara’s eyes and needed to stay focused on what was happening. She was relieved when she heard Shepard’s voice, “Just… don’t be surprised if the crew is a little wary of your new body. It was shooting at them a little while ago.”

Samantha raised her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. Liara looked equally confused.

“An excellent point,” EDI’s voice sounded. But it wasn’t coming from the com system in the ship. It sounded like she was talking next to Shepard’s silhouette. “I will take it to the bridge. Joker will also want to see it.”

“On that, we can agree,” Shepard’s voice chuckled.

Samantha’s jaw dropped when she saw a mech walk out of the med bay with Shepard. Shepard was smiling, shaking her head as the mech unit continued walking. She looked up as the mech unit disappeared behind the elevator shaft, making curious eye contact with Samantha.

“What’s wrong, Specialist?” Shepard asked loudly. She looked genuinely concerned, standing there in her heavily wrinkled and bloodied tank top.

Samantha moved away from the wall, no longer hiding half of her body and took a few steps forward. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, finger extended pointing to where the mech had disappeared to, but found that no words were forming. She probably looked like a fish gasping for air.

Liara stood, putting her pistol on a clip on her belt. “What is going on, Shepard?”

Shepard’s gaze snapped to Liara. Once she realized what the two of them must have been doing, she smiled again, her posture relaxing. “Well… EDI found out how to repurpose the Cerberus mech.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped again. “That was EDI that just walked to the elevator?!”

Shepard laughed. “Sure was. Now you’ve got a body to imagine alongside her voice, Traynor.”

Samantha flushed. She could feel the heat from her cheeks radiating in her ears. She’d forgotten that she’d apologized to EDI in front of Shepard.

“Well,” Liara said, putting a finger to her temple. “That could be useful in the field.”

Shepard nodded. “That’s what she thought, too. We’ll test her out on the next mission.”

Samantha’s stomach dropped again. Now EDI had a body… the small feeling of being replaceable by EDI that she had when she was in the shuttle bay returned in full force. Samantha felt herself frown, the heat from her cheeks slowly retreating.

“Shepard, are you alright?” Samantha heard Liara ask softly. Samantha looked up from her own hollow stomach to see that Liara had taken a step towards Shepard, and put a tentative hand on her wrist. Even to Samantha, it was apparent that Liara wasn’t talking about what had just happened. She was referring to the shuttle bay incident.

“I’m fine,” she said, with finality in her tone. She didn’t shrug Liara’s hand off, but she didn’t return the gesture either. She looked exhausted. Her hair was in wispy strands around her face, her eyes seemed heavy, and she had bruises beginning to form on her face and arms.

Liara let go and took a step back. Trying to salvage the conversation without anyone feeling more awkward than they already did, Samantha walked up and said, “We couldn’t see much of what happened in the AI core from out here, but there seemed to have been some sort of fire. You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Shepard looked at her and chuckled softly. “I thought you’d be more concerned about EDI?”

Samantha didn’t let the hollow feeling her stomach show in her emotions. Yes, she was worried about EDI… but she was also worried about the necessity of her position. “Don’t get me wrong… EDI is a huge asset to this team. If she’d told me about her plan to obtain a body, I’d have volunteered to help.”

“I did not wish to force a conflict of interest between our friendship and your duty,” EDI’s voice sounded from the com speakers in the mess hall.

All three women in the mess hall made a noticeable flinch at the sound of EDI’s voice. Shepard looked around to see if she’d not gotten on the elevator. Liara looked confusedly up at the ceiling. Samantha glanced around, but continued nervously, “I’d have preferred a conflict of interest to the electrical problems that we’ve been having lately…but thanks, regardless.” She stayed quiet, waiting to see if EDI would respond. She didn’t. She looked at Liara and Shepard, “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“What will?” Liara asked.

“EDI having a body, but still being able to talk to us anywhere on the ship,” Samantha said, hugging herself. She hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly cold. She couldn’t tell if the temperature had dropped or it was just from the drastic change in her mood.

Shepard laughed, making Samantha look at her. She looked tired, but seemed to be at ease. “It most certainly will. At least now we have a body to picture when she speaks.”

Heat flushed back into her cheeks. “As does Moreau,” she added.

“He most certainly does. I wonder if he’ll ask her to stay in the cockpit, for morale reasons or something,” Shepard humored.

Liara looked a Samantha. “So you think the electrical problems we’ve been having have been the cause of EDI’s acquisition of the mech unit?”

Samantha nodded. “Pretty sure. She’d had some pretty long lag times lately. I’d wager all the issues we’ve been having can be linked back to this.”

“Well,” Liara started. “Since that’s the case, will we still be stopping at the Citadel for repairs, Shepard?”

Shepard nodded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Yeah. I think the crew could use a shore day, or afternoon. That and I wanted to go see Ashley. She emailed me yesterday letting me know that she was conscious.”

“Oh, that is good to hear,” Liara said with a genuine smile. “I’m relieved that she is doing well. Are you going to try and see if she’ll join us?”

Shepard nodded. “Yeah—she’d be a valuable addition to the team,” she said with a distant look in her eyes. She blinked, smile back on her face. “You’d like her, Traynor. She’s almost as quick witted as you are.”

Samantha could only smile. She didn’t know what to really add to the conversation. But she did know this—she needed to start focusing on work instead of Commander Shepard. Now that EDI was mobile, her position seemed more expendable than ever. And with Shepard’s long time love interest potentially joining the crew, Samantha knew that any sliver of hope that something might form between them was now a fast fading glimmer. Maybe now she could focus all of her attention on work, rather than constantly be worried about her feelings for Shepard.

She was, after all in the military. Oh-ra.


	7. Dirty Details, Dammit

Samantha stood at the Citadel Commons area. She’d gone to see Steve before she’d left the Normandy, but he had had a few things to finish before he felt comfortable leaving the shuttle bay. It had given her time to go and buy a few things: Her toothbrush, for one, had come in from her special order and she had gone to pick it up. The British had come a long way since the eighteen hundreds and their poorly maintained teeth. She had always taken pride in having a healthy smile, hints why she was willing to drop six-thousand credits on a toothbrush, even if it emptied her savings account.

The longest stop she made had been at the pharmacy; dealing with non-humans pharmacists in regards to her prescriptions had been more of a headache than it had been worth—especially considering the medicine they couldn’t find was one for her migraines. She’d found her antihistamine, proton pump inhibitor, and her inhaler prescriptions without any difficulty. The pharmacists insisted that they would continue looking for the _sucrosapsunol_ and let her know as soon as they found anything.

She’d also had some time to go to the Alliance depot and pick up a few new pairs of socks and under garments. She was still dissatisfied with how plain they all were; there was absolutely nothing exciting about them. She was just glad that she wasn’t trying to impress anyone at the present, because the standard black was simply distasteful and quite unflattering against her honeyed skin. She would have much preferred white… or a dark red... hell even green—anything other than the drab black mate fabric that they were. And it wouldn’t hurt to add a bit of lace, too.

Her messenger bag that held her bounty of the day hung off of her shoulder as she stood while leaning on a banister, looking out at the Citadel arms. Her mood hadn’t been much improved since her last encounter with Shepard after the EDI incident. She had abruptly excused herself to go and catch some sleep. Thankfully, her body let her sleep for once, instead of tormenting her with thoughts filled with questions she could never answer, about Shepard, the war, and how she felt about EDI’s presence on the ship. She’d slept for about six hours, a vast improvement over her sleep over the past few days. She had taken her time getting ready to go knowing that she’d have to wait on Steve anyway. He was worse than some women that Samantha knew, but it wasn’t because he was worried how he looked, it was because he always got caught up with something right before he had to be somewhere; Samantha could sympathize, it was something that Natalie couldn’t stand about her while they’d been together.  

Her elbows resting on the banister, she couldn’t help but think about Earth. The Citadel was beautiful, but it was stagnant. She longed to hear the rustling leaves being blown about by the wind, or the feeling of rain falling on her face, or the smell of wet grass from the torrential down pour that England was known for. She missed her time at Oxford; she’d often go and walk around in the rain when she had a lot on her mind. It had been years since she’d been able to do that. It had rained once while she had been on Horizon for that week, visiting her parents… before the collectors hit and took half of the colony.  But it had been more of a misting than an all-out downpour.

She desperately wished she could be walking in the rain now. She’d always been able to clear her head the best that way. She’d officially come to the conclusion that she needed to move on from Shepard. And not like the last time she’d told herself to do it, but actually give it a go. After talking with Liara, it was apparent that Shepard was just being nice to her, like she was with every other member of her crew. The only thing that Samantha had over everyone else is that she’d held Shepard while she’d cried… and secretly kissed her while she slept. The holding her had happened by happenstance… the kiss had been her own stupid volition that she still couldn’t find justification for, almost a week later.

Shepard aside, the thing that was weighing on her mind at the present was the sheer fact that EDI now had a body… which made her feel like she may no longer have a place aboard the Normandy. _Why does serving on the Normandy mean so much to you?_ She thought, looking out as cars and taxis zoomed past. _It’s not like I couldn’t simply do my job from a desk at Alliance HQ._

Before she could continue down that thought trail, she felt someone poke either side of her rib cage. She let out squeal, rapidly spinning around with a hand raised to smack the culprit. Steve stood there, grinning, his hands retracted up by his chest.

“You little…” Samantha started, but she was smiled and lowered her hand.

“Payback’s a real bitch, isn’t she?” he teased, moving up beside her and leaning on the banister.

Samantha repositioned her messenger bag and resumed her leaning posture next to Steve. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” he started. “I was in the middle of calibrating the thrusters and it took a lot longer than I thought it would have. But I’m here now,” he said with a smile. Before Samantha could throw a joke at him, telling him that he was beginning to sound like Garrus, he continued. “So—I’ve got exactly an hour before my tools are recharged and ready to go.”

Samantha’s smile faltered. “Only an hour?”

He nodded. “We’re not even scheduled to be in port that long. As soon as the electrical crew clears the Normandy, Joker said Shepard wanted to head out to the war summit.”

“The war summit? Shit… I have data feeds to set up for that that I have totally neglected.”

Steve chuckled. “Well, when we head back to the Normandy, you can feed them candy and tell them that you’ll never neglect them again.”

“Oh no, candy is for babies. I’ll probably have to show them my knickers or something. Those data feeds can be awfully fussy.”

They shared a laugh together. Samantha linked her arm under Steve’s and leaned her head on his shoulder. He didn’t shy away, which was one of the reasons that Samantha liked hanging around him. She didn’t have the urge to be physical all of the time, but when she did, it was nice to know that she could grab onto Steve’s arm and that he didn’t mind.

“So—tell me about this crush on Commander Shepard,” Steve said, idly watching a taxi car drive by.

Samantha let out a heavy sigh. “I dunno, Steve. The more I think about it, the more I think I am just fooling myself.”

He turned towards her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You know Shepard… she’s nice to everyone. I think I’ve been reading her wrong… seeing something that isn’t there.”

“What she thinks about you is irrelevant, Sam. What do you think about her?”

“Huh?” Samantha sounded, loosening her grip on Steve’s arm to allow her to turn toward him.

He gave a soft smile. “What is it about Shepard that makes you blush?”

Samantha blinked. She couldn’t tell him about the first night that she’d met Commander Shepard. She had sworn herself to secrecy. But… what was it about Shepard that made her blush so profusely all of the time? “Her eyes,” she said before she really thought it through. “Those brilliant green eyes get me every time. Especially when she’s winking at me.” Steve chuckled, but continued looking at Samantha, waiting for her to continue. “I’m not sure what it is… looking into her eyes I feel like she shows you not only that she’s the hard ass, here I come to save the day, Commander Shepard… but you also see her softer side… the side that the public never gets to see.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “I’m not sure I’ve seen that look,” he admitted.

Samantha blinked slowly a few times, trying to recall exactly when she’d seen that look in Shepard’s eyes. _When she begged you to promise her that you wouldn’t let the war change you,_ she answered herself.

“Alright, so she’s got you by her eyes. What else?” he prodded, as Samantha had taken too long to answer.

“God, I don’t know, Steve,” she started. “What about her **_isn’t_** appealing to a girl like me? She’s gorgeous, fit, strong willed, and independent. How is a lowly girl from Horizon not supposed to find her attractive?”

“Sounds like you’re more than just attracted to her.”

“Ugh,” Samantha said, putting her forehead to Steve’s shoulder. “But she’s friendly with everyone, Steve. What I thought was there… isn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

Samantha let out another sigh. She needed a sounding board. She needed to get her thoughts about Shepard out of her head and hopefully they’d stay there. “I talked with Liara T’Soni after the incident in the shuttle bay. Apparently, Shepard is the Normandy heartthrob. Most everyone on her crew has thought that she’s been in love with them at some point or another.”

Steve eyed her. “I wasn’t aware that you’d had many interactions with the Commander.”

Samantha fought the threatening feeling of a blush rising to her cheeks. She knew if she started blushing now, she’d end up revealing Shepard’s secret meltdown. She cleared her throat. “She’s pulled me aside to chat a few times,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

He looked at her for a moment longer before he shrugged. It was apparent that Samantha was holding back something, but he wasn’t about to start prying for it. “You know, it isn’t uncommon for crew to think they have feelings for their CO, right? I mean, they have the guilty fantasy about being ordered around, which we all know can be erotic. But more importantly, they’re constantly saving your ass. When you work in such tight quarters, you get friendly.”

“But how is it that everyone has seen that friendliness as love or infatuation?”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Well… probably because the crew she works with isn’t Alliance. In the Alliance, there are strict regulations against fraternization. So, on an Alliance cruiser, you become close, like family. That’s what Shepard knows; I mean she’s been with the Alliance since the day she turned 18. That’s half her life, and it’s all that she knows. Non-Alliance types might see how she interacts with people as more than it really is.”

“Well, what about me? I’m Alliance.”

“You’ve also never served on the front lines or an active war ship before.”

“True,” Samantha said. She knew that her feelings had been foolish. Listening to Steve, it all made sense. Shepard treats her crew like family. It is a form of love that she has for everyone, but it wasn’t the intimate kind. If she started looking at Shepard through the “family” lens instead of the “attractive” lens, she might be able to finally get over her grade school crush and be able to focus on her job or have a conversation without fumbling over her nervousness.

“I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t like her, though,” Steve continued. Samantha mentally groaned at his change of tone. “There seemed to be a little bit of flirting going on in the shuttle bay on both of your parts.”

“What?” Samantha scoffed. “I’m pretty sure I’d notice if I was being flirted with.” As she was saying it, she remembered thinking the exact same thing. How Shepard had leaned against the wall and towards her, telling her to stay. How she’d come directly up to them, talking to Steve first and then to her. _It’s a move_ **I’ve** _used, for Christ sake._

“Oh really,” Steve eyed her. “I know that she lifted her shirt because she saw you looking and wanted to get a rise out of you.”

The blush in her cheek finally broke through. She blinked a few times and then turned to face Steve, looking him nervously in the eyes. “What? When?!”

“When she wiped her face with her shirt. She glanced at us—not me because she knows that I’m not interested—and had this odd smirk on her face. Then, as she was bringing her shirt down, she peered over her shirt and looked at you again.”

Samantha gave him a flat look. “You’re totally making that up.”

“Am not.”

“I was… well… looking at her the whole time. I would have noticed if she had been looking at me.”

Steve laughed. “You were too preoccupied looking at her sweaty body to notice what her eyes were doing.”

Samantha opened her mouth to respond, but closed it. She didn’t want to hear this. She wanted Steve to affirm what Liara said, that Shepard was the way she was around her, just the same as she was the same around everyone else. That she wasn’t treating Samantha any differently. She could move on from there, only admiring Shepard from afar, as she knew the affection was one sided. With what Steve was saying—it complicated what she was trying to do.

“I think you’re imagining that. Anyway—we’re at war. I shouldn’t even be worried about any of this. So what if I have a crush on my Commanding Officer? Who doesn’t have a crush on her?”

“I don’t,” Steve said impishly.

“Because of her boobs?” Samantha asked, tilting her head down and looking up at him, as if looking over a pair of glasses.

He smiled. “Because boobs,” he answered, playfully shrugging.

They shared a laugh. But then Steve put a hand on Samantha’s. “Hey—I know you might feel like worrying about romance is a waste of time, given the galactic state and all…but we still have to do things to keep life normal. You falling for Shepard might keep you sane through this.”

“Or drive me absolutely batty.”

“That too,” he smiled. “But don’t write her off. Maybe stop obsessing about it, but don’t write her off. When you stop obsessing over it, you’ll be able to just enjoy the conversations you have with her, instead of analyzing them to see if there is an ulterior motive or meaning.”

_But that’s just what I do,_ Samantha thought. _My_ **job** _is to analyze everything._

She gave a soft smile. _For being someone who just lost his husband and never took advice about moving on, he sure could give the advice_ , she thought. _Albeit frustrating and not what you wanted to hear…_ But what he said rang true. If something was going to happen—then it would happen. Until then, she just needed to enjoy her time with Shepard like Liara learned to do. It was better to be a part of her life than to be separate from it. Maybe that would help her not be such a fumbling idiot in front of her. So maybe she wasn’t destined to fall in love with the Commander Shepard, but she’d still be able to be a part of her life… _that has to count for something,_ she thought.

Samantha stood up, linking her arm through Steve’s again. “Alright, Mr. Love Guru… enough advice. Let’s get back to saving the galaxy, one data feed and thruster calibration at a time.”

Steve sneered. “There’s a dirty joke in there, somewhere.”

Samantha playfully raised an eyebrow, winking. “Always.”

* * *

Shepard nervously ran her thumb along the spine of the book she was holding in her hand as she rode the elevator up to Huerta Memorial. She’d been lucky, finding a  **_physical_ ** book at the citadel markets, especially one written in English. And better yet—it was a collection of Tennyson, one of Ashley’s favorites.  

The elevator ride was a long one; it felt even longer since Shepard was running on barely a naps worth of sleep. She’d stayed up late talking with Jack in her cabin. Jack quickly realized that Shepard was through talking about the shuttle bay incident and all things related, so they spent a few hours catching up. They talked about the old crew and where they thought everyone had ended up and recapped what Jack had done while Shepard was a “guest” at Alliance HQ in Vancouver. Shepard was surprised that Jack was recruited by Grissom almost immediately after the Normandy was handed over, so her list of shenanigans was relatively small.

Shepard rolled her neck from side to side as the elevator continued to climb. She had let Jack fall asleep on her bed while she tried to occupy her time with war summit correspondences. She had fallen asleep on the couch while she was sitting up, which caused the current soreness in her neck. The rest of her body still ached from the day before; usually after a fight or mission, Shepard was good to go the next day, but after doing a mission and two fights, her body had decided that she needed to be punished. Thankfully, nothing was too obviously bruised. She was just stiff, mainly in her knees, elbows, and hands. The effect that the day had on her mentally still lingered, no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

Shepard had seen Jack and Sanders off at the loading docks; they had much to do with readying the students for their new support roles. Shepard was sad to see Jack go, she would have loved nothing more than to have her stationed on the Normandy; but she knew that Jack was where she needed to be. Where she would be most useful and there was no one in the galaxy who would keep her students safer than she would. As selfish as Shepard wanted to be, she couldn’t help smile at Jack’s resolve to stay with the kids. She really was a decent human being, once you got passed the sailor mouth, lack of proper clothing coverage, tattoos, and broody attitude.

As the elevator continued its climb, Shepard began to tap her foot impatiently. She had always hated the damn things—especially the ones on the Citadel. Some of them might as well have been trains, with how far they travelled. She could see her reflection on the glass of the door; she at least looked a little better than she felt. She had tied her hair back at the base of her neck, loose strands falling on the sides of her face and wore her casual attire, cargo pants and her N7 t-shirt and hoodie. No need to wear her dress blues for Ashley, considering she wasn’t attending any Alliance functions or meetings while docked at the Citadel. She was hoping that the Normandy would only be docked half of the day so that they could get back to work. She needed to get the War Summit officially underway—the Salarians were already in position at the designated meeting coordinates at the Pranas System, in the Annos Basin. The electrical issues had been a good excuse to stop and a valid reason for the Normandy’s delay, giving Shepard time to see Ashley.

Finally, the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a simple chime, and a synthetic voice sounding “you’ve arrived at Huerta Memorial Hospital.” Shepard took in a deep breath, nodding to herself. She would be the first to admit that she was nervous as she started to walk into the waiting area of the hospital. She hadn’t really talked to Ashley since Horizon, while she was working with Cerberus. That conversation had not gone well, at all. It was also the reason why she didn’t drink much anymore, especially Turian whiskey. Ashley’s words had cut Shepard pretty deeply. When Ashley helped extract her from Earth, they hadn’t had any time to talk about it. They had had a heated conversation on Mars, but it hardly felt like it was the closure that Ashley needed on the subject.

As Shepard looked around, she noticed that the waiting room was relatively full. It wasn’t hard to believe, given the galaxy’s state and all. There were families talking next to the large windows, solitary people sitting in chairs, and so on. There were no seats available and the noise level was a constant hum of conversation.

Shepard walked up to the desk and said that she was here to see a patient. After exchanging some information the desk clerk told her that Ashley currently had a visitor and that she would have to wait for a few minutes. Shepard tried to pull the Spectre card, but the clerk wouldn’t budge. With a frustrated sigh, she walked over to the windows overlooking the Citadel gardens below.

“Commander Shepard?”

Shepard looked to her right, where the gurgling voice had originated from. Thane was looking at her; he was in a low stance and had his hands up by his face, as though he had been boxing. “Thane!” Shepard was glad to see the drell; she hadn’t had much time to say goodbye to him when she had dropped him off at the Citadel before she returned to Earth to turn the Normandy in. She had been hopeful to keep in contact with him, but the Alliance had made it next to impossible to contact anyone from her old crew.

Thane smiled, walking over to meet Shepard who was already in route. They shook hands; Shepard fought the urge to hug him, but refrained knowing that she’d given him the wrong idea in the past. “When I heard Earth was under attack, I tried to call. I never got through,” Thane said as his hand lingered, the concern in his voice heavily prevalent.

Shepard smiled at him, clapping his shoulder. “Don’t feel bad—communications to earth are a mess. I’m glad to see that you’re staying in shape.”

Shepard released his shoulder and Thane took his hand away. “My disease kills slowly. With enough care and a healthy life style, it can be delayed for a few years.” His smiled faltered. “Of course my allotted time has come and gone. Now I exercise because it pleases me.” Thane motioned to two seats that were recently vacated and the two moved to sit. Shepard was glad to see him, even if she could hear the gurgle of his voice more prominently now; indicating that is disease was advancing. “What are you doing here?” he asked curiously, relaxing into the chair.

Bringing her leg up to cross over her left; she sat back at looked at Thane. “I’m visiting a friend who got hurt protecting me, Ashley.”

The drell blinked; a motion that had always fascinated Shepard as the drell blinked with two lids both vertically and horizontally. “The dark haired human woman in intensive care?”

“That’s her.”

“Ah,” he smiled, leaning slightly forward. “She is indeed beautiful.”

Shepard eyed him, raising an eyebrow and narrowing her eyes.

Thane chuckled. “Garrus recounted the story of how you drunkenly expressed your feelings for the human when I asked why you were so ill the day that Mordin’s singing made you vomit.”

Shepard brought a nervous hand up to her neck. _I’m never going to live that down…_

“After seeing her, I can now understand why you feel the way you do,” Thane finished.

She blinked a few times, not entirely sure how to respond. It wasn’t a surprise that he knew about the drunken event. Most of the crew watched her lose it into her cereal bowl that morning. “Err… thanks, Thane.”

Thane continued, unaware of how awkward Shepard suddenly felt. “She will be starting physical therapy with my class soon. If she means something to you, I will help how I can. As long as she is here, consider her under my protection.”

The embarrassment and awkwardness suddenly drained from Shepard’s extremities. She looked Thane in the eyes, fighting the urge to cry at his words of protection. She abruptly stood and hugged him where he sat, tightly. “I appreciate it, Thane.”

Thane brought a tender hand to her elbow and nodded. Shepard broke away, still smiling at the drell. Knowing someone was here to watch over Ashley was a weight lifted that Shepard hadn’t even been aware of. There were so many things happening all over the galaxy, she couldn’t keep track of all of the things that worried her, making it impossible to sleep.

“I am near the end of my life,” Thane smiled. “It is a good time to be generous. Kepral's Syndrome has put most of my other plans on hold.”

Shepard smiled at him again. She moved back to her seat and sat. They sat for a while, idly chatting about what Thane had been up to since Shepard turned in the Normandy. It was apparent that his medical condition was deteriorating, but he was in good spirits. He was slowly mending things with Kolyat and keeping them both out of trouble. He was humble as always as he spoke about the people in his physical therapy classes and how determined they all were, and how he admired their resolve to get better.

It was obvious that Thane was glad to see Shepard and that she was glad to see him, but she let him do most of the talking. She’d always enjoyed listening to him, especially when he spoke of the soul versus the body and how the two were different. At first, Shepard had seen it as cowardice, not taking responsibility for his actions; overtime, she slowly started to understand and agree with the drell. She’d done many things in her military career where she was simply the tool to accomplish the task, especially while she was in infantry.

Eventually, the desk clerk came up to Shepard, informing her that Ashley’s visitor was about to leave and that she could head back. She gave Thane a hug, the Drell was an awkward hugger, not being used to physical contact of a friendly nature, but she gave him little choice in the matter—she was still so humbled at his offer of protection for Ashley. She promised that the next time she was at the Citadel that she would stop by for another chat.

As she walked through the hospital halls, she was thankful that there wasn’t any attention being paid to her. That was one thing she hated about coming to the Citadel: The constant “you’re Commander Shepard!” was something that she had grown tired of early on in her career. She rounded a corner, about to signal the door to Ashley’s room to open when it slid open on its own. Udina was walking out of the room.

“Shepard,” he said rather gruffly.

“Udina,” she replied with a stern nod. They had never liked each other. Shepard had always thought he was a spineless snake of a man, and he had never gotten over the fact that Shepard had recommended Anderson as a Councilor over him. Shepard waited for him to finish exiting the room and for the door to close before she continued in. Finally, she looked from the door to the bed that Ashley was propped up on. She looked pretty worn for wear; bruises covered her face still and she looked smaller somehow, as if she wasn’t really eating or doing anything to stimulate her muscles. Despite the physical trauma residue, Shepard still smirked as she looked at her; she was still beautiful in Shepard’s eyes. “What was that about?” She asked, thumbing towards the door.

Ashley smiled. “You never actually read your emails, do you?”

“I do too!” Shepard retorted playfully, walking forward and taking a seat in the simple chair that was positioned next to Ashley’s hospital bed. “You said something about him offering you Spectre status?”

Ashley nodded. “And he’s being damn persistent about it, too.”

“I take it that you haven’t accepted yet, then?”

She gently shook her head, looking away from Shepard. “Not yet. It’s an honor and all… but… I don’t know. I need to think about it some more.”

“It’s a big decision,” Shepard responded, putting a gentle hand on Ashley’s forearm. “Smart to give it some thought.”

Ashley looked back to her, looking her in the eyes; the same eyes that had captivated her three years ago. Shepard had never really figured out why she had been so taken by Ashley to begin with. Had she not have been, the last three years would have been a little more simple for her; god knows she was full up on complexity with saving the galaxy from Saren, the collectors, and now the official horde of Reapers. But she had always been stuck on Ashley’s beautiful brown eyes and dark hair, and her constant need to quote some old literature, adding another complex layer to her ever full plate.

“How are you feeling?” Shepard asked tentatively, not moving her hand from Ashley’s arm. She gently moved her thumb, trying to convey how much she wanted to know.

She gave a small shrug and a heavy sigh. “Honestly, I’ve been climbing the walls. The nurse has said that my vitals are all good, but they still want me on bed rest. I’m starting to get antsy being cooped up in here with nothing to do but watch the cars drive by.”

“Maybe this will help,” Shepard offered, moving her other hand up to reveal the present she’d bought. “I picked this up for you. Figured you had some down time.”

Ashley shifted on the bed and took the book with both hands. Shepard moved her hand away and leaned slightly back in her chair. “Where did you find this?” Ashley asked excitedly, running her hands over the worn cover of the hard cased book.

“I got lucky at the markets,” Shepard smiled; glad to know that Ashley was excited about the gift. “I put the bookmark on Ulysses for you.”

Ashley’s smile deepened and she reached out her hand for Shepard’s. Shepard took it with both her hands and she leaned forward again. Her hand was warm, and soft. She didn’t want to let go. Ashley squeezed Shepard’s hand and brought the book to her chest. “That’s sweet, Shepard. Thank you,” she said, her voice ringing full of sincerity. It made Shepard wonder if someone, aside from her father, had ever given her a book of poetry as a gift. By the happy look on her face, Shepard would guess that she was the first to do so. “It must have cost you a fortune,” Ashley added, placing the book down in her lap.

Shepard laughed. “Only my first born child. But since that’s never going to happen, I’d say I got a pretty good deal.”

Ashley laughed. “You’re ridiculous. You know that?”

Shepard shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “Eh, so I’ve been told.”

Ashley shook her head and then leaned back into her bed, repositioning herself so that she was more on her side so that she could look at Shepard more easily. “The nurse said you checked on me earlier. I guess I was still out cold then.”

Shepard nodded. “Yeah, I came to see you as soon as they’d let me in. It was pretty scary, seeing you so beaten up. I couldn’t help thinking that it was all my fault.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes at Shepard. “What? Skipper, you’re the reason I’m alive. Don’t think for a minute that I’m in here because of you. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at Cerberus.”

“Oh trust me,” Shepard started, anger seeping into her voice. “I am.” Mad for what they’d done to Ashley. What they’d done to Grissom. What they’d done to Jack all those years ago. And she was finally letting herself get mad that she willingly worked for them, and almost handed over the Collector ship to them. Now, with everything that was happening, she was glad that she’d refused and blown up the ship anyway.

“Good to hear,” Ashley said simply—but Shepard knew better. She knew that she was referring to her time with Cerberus and that she’d finally seen the error of it all.

Shepard clenched her jaw. She hadn’t wanted to talk about this. “Listen, Ash… I know you’re still mad at me for teaming up with Cerberus. But if I hadn’t done so, the Reapers would have come sooner. But trust me, please… I’m not with them anymore.”

The uncertainty finally hit Ashley expression. “So you’re not a part of Cerberus anymore. Case closed. Full stop.”

“Ash, it’s the truth,” Shepard said squeezing her hand with both of her own. “I know that I was an ass on Mars, not letting you ask the questions that you needed to ask. I can’t apologize enough for that. But you have to believe me that after the final mission ended and we came back through the Omega 4 relay, I cut all ties with Cerberus and flew the Normandy to Earth.”

Ashley was quiet for a long moment. “You’ve always stood up for what’s right, no matter how alone you were doing so. I’m sorry that I doubted you…So you cut all ties. I accept that,” Ashley said, her body tensing. She narrowed her eyes and looked Shepard square in the eyes. 

Shepard was quiet for a moment. Finally, she asked “Did we cut all ties?” Ashley tilted her head to the side, as if asking for clarification. “I didn’t hear from you while I was a guest of the Alliance.”

Ashley’s face fell and Shepard noticed her jaw clench. “I couldn’t face you. I’m not proud of avoiding you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to send a message or pick up a comms or stop by… Even when Anderson requested my presence… it was… difficult.”

Shepard rubbed her thumb on the back of Ashley’s hand. “It’s okay. We’re past that. Fresh start.”

Ashley gave a sad smile, turning slightly away from Shepard. “It’s going to take time, Skipper.”

“Copy that,” Shepard responded, nodding her head a little too vigorously. “But not too long. The bad guys aren’t taking coffee breaks.”

“Okay, okay. What is this? Healing through guilt?”

They shared a smile; a quiet laugh even escaped Shepard’s lips. “Seems to be working.” For some reason, out of nowhere, Shepard was reminded of Samantha. She looked out the window as her thoughts formed. What Ashley had said was something that Shepard could hear Samantha saying, in her own witty British fashion. Even in the tense moments that they had had in their brief conversations, Samantha had always been able to make Shepard smile by something she’d said. It was odd, that she should pop into her thoughts while she was sitting with Ashley. She shook her head slightly and glanced back at Ashley, who was also seemingly deep in thought.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, Shepard still holding onto Ashley’s hand as she tried figure out what to say. There were so many things that she wanted to ask her, but none of them seemed to be an easy Segway from their previous conversation.

It was Ashley who finally broke the silence. “So—have you found anyone, Skipper?” Her expression changed from her thoughtful one to a genuinely interested one.

“What do you mean?” Shepard asked.

“A woman to come home to? Something’s gotta keep you motivated while you’re out there fighting for the rest of the galaxy.”

Shepard’s heart fell and her stomach suddenly felt feverishly empty. How could she find someone when she was still hopelessly in love with the woman in front of her? She knew what she was about to say was probably not going to end well… it never had in the past. “Ash, it’s always been you. When we didn’t see eye to eye, I gave you as much time as I could. But that’s done now. I’m not doing this without you. I need you. You’ve always been the girl that I’ve wanted to sweep off of her feet.”

Ashley bit her lower lip, not in a sultry way, but in a frustrated, thoughtful kind of way; it was the look she’d given Shepard on so many other occasions that she knew it meant she was trying to figure out how to say what she needed to without outright hurting her feelings. “Skipper, you gotta move on from me. I love you—but like a sister. Even though we’ve been through some shit with the whole Cerberus thing, I know that you’ll always have my back. But you gotta let go and move on... I just don’t see you like that.”

Shepard clenched her jaw. She’d run this conversation through her head so many times that she always thought she knew what to say to convince Ashley otherwise. But each time the conversation actually happened, Shepard could never remember how she’d handled it in her head while she had been showering or trying to fall asleep. The conversation always went much smoother when Ashley wasn’t actually there. “Ash… I’ve tried to move on from you. I… I just can’t,” she said, disappointed that this conversation was going to end up just like all of the rest of them. Shepard fought hard to keep her voice level; she’d never cried in front of Ashley and she wanted to keep it that way.

Ashley was quiet for a moment. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, gently squeezing Shepard’s hand that was still holding hers. “Skipper, we need to settle this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t keep pining on after me. Seriously. You’re a good friend. Hell, you’re probably the closest friend that I have, and I consider you family. But… I’ll **_never_** see you the way that you see me. And I am tired of this conversation. I hate the look in your eyes when I reject you. It seriously kills me to tell you no, but I can’t change who I am.”

Shepard broke her gaze from Ashley’s and looked away, towards her lap. She hated this conversation. They’d had it a handful of times and no matter how it ended up, she could still never move on. “Ash… I…”

“I know, Skipper. I know that you love me. I do. And I love you too, but not in the way that you want. I hate seeing how much I hurt you get every time I tell you no.” Ashley moved in her bed, gently pulling her hand out of Shepard’s to use it to help her sit up. “So this is what we’re going to do. You, right now, are going to kiss me.”

Shepard blinked and then her eyes immediately narrowed as she looked up at Ashley. She must have heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

“You’re going to kiss me,” Ashley said, slowly articulating each word. The look on her face was dead serious. “And you’re going to pour everything that you feel for me into that kiss. And I mean **_everything_**. If I feel like it is something that I might be able to get used to or if there is some mind shattering spark when you do, then I’ll give you a try. An honest effort to be with you. But if I don’t feel anything—then you need to move on.”

Shepard opened her mouth to speak but closed it, not knowing what to say. _How can I pour that much emotion into one kiss without it turning into sex?_ she thought. She swallowed hard. _Ashley is in no condition to be having sex…_ She cleared her throat, forcing the thought out of her head and finally said, “Ash… I don’t think—”

“Either do it, Shepard,” Ashley cut her off. “Or move on. This is the only chance I’m going to give you to change my mind.”

Shepard looked at her for a long moment. She’d always dreamed of the moment that she would convince Ashley that all along she was meant to be with her. She’d never once imagined that it would turn out this way. Slowly she found herself nodding. “Alright… deal,” she said, standing up from her seat. She nervously licked her lips; she still didn’t know how she was going to express everything that she felt for the Lieutenant in one single kiss… and she was, admittedly, horribly out of practice.

Ashley nodded and moved slightly in the bed, making room for Shepard to sit down on the bed next to her and moving the book from her lap to her bed stand. After a few more slow intakes of breath, Shepard sat down, pulling her right leg up on to the bed so that she was still facing Ashley. Ashley looked nervous as she was sitting up the best she could. “Here, why don’t you just lie back, Ash,” Shepard said, pulling a pillow down.

Ashley eyed her, but obliged. As much as the Lieutenant wanted to be able to sit up right, her body just wasn’t able to sustain the position. Shepard brought a hand up to Ashley’s face, gently tucking her hair behind her ear and then gently placing her fingertips along her cheek. “Are you sure about this?”

Ashley smiled, looking Shepard in the eyes. “No—but I think it’ll settle things,” she said nervously.

Shepard tried to think of all the reasons she loved Ashley: her witty since of humor, her determination to prove herself, her honesty, how open she’d always been with her, the comforting feeling she felt whenever she saw her. The list continued, but she tried to think of all of that as she slowly started to lean forward. She’d always imagined their first kiss to be hard, fast, and passionate, but she was afraid to do that, given Ashley’s state. She wanted to be gentle, but she didn’t think that that would convey anything that she needed to convey.

Looking down at Ashley, just a few inches from her face, Shepard couldn’t help but be overwhelmed. Even covered in bruises and obviously exhausted, she was still beautiful to Shepard. In all her years she’d never seen anyone as attractive as Ashley. She was then slightly jolted as Samantha floated back into her mind. _She’s just as attractive, if not more so._ She blinked a few times, trying to figure out why she was suddenly in her head—she and Ashley had little in common physically. Sure they both had dark hair, and brown eyes, but that’s where the similarities ended. Samantha’s smile was brighter, more devilish than Ashley’s. And Samantha’s face was far more expressive.

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, forcing Samantha’s face out of her conscious. She opened her eyes to find Ashley giving her a quizzical stare. She swallowed again. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Ashley smiled and shook her head anxiously. “Only about a hundred times, Skipper. Just hurry up before I change my mind about all of this.”

Shepard nodded and leaned forward. She was about an inch or so away from Ashley’s lips. “Ash, I lo—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Ashley whispered, her lips briefly touching Shepard’s as she spoke.

A shiver ran down Shepard’s spine. She’d always hoped to hear those words from Ashley. It was just the motivation that she needed. Their lips finally met, a little harder than Shepard had wanted to as she didn’t want to hurt her. Shepard’s hand moved into Ashley’s hair, pulling her head forward and more into the kiss. Ashley’s lips were full, soft, and inviting; everything Shepard had thought that they would be.

The kiss turned slow, their lips moving around each other’s trying to find an appropriate rhythm. Ashley’s hand went up to Shepard’s shoulder as they found a rhythm that was slowly starting to speed up. At her touch, Shepard lightly bit Ashley’s bottom lip, causing her to gasp ever-so-slightly. Shepard used that brief moment to slide her tongue into Ashley’s mouth. Ashley allowed it, even fighting for a moment to have her own turn.

As they kissed, Shepard couldn’t help but feel… empty. Sure, Ashley’s lips felt wonderful against hers, but beyond the physical pleasure of kissing her, she wasn’t feeling anything else. Her body wasn’t reacting how she thought it would; there was no desire compelling her to continue, no outward passion that wanted to start stripping Ashley’s clothes off, nothing telling her that this felt right.

She was so confused. She was kissing the woman that she had thought was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, the woman that she’d waited three years for. And there was nothing. She gently started to pull away, and Ashley let her. As Shepard moved away, Ashley blinked a few times, looking around, slightly out of breath, but not at Shepard.

“So… err… How was that?” Shepard asked nervously, coming to a sitting position and bringing her hand away from Ashley’s face.

Ashley opened her mouth, closed it and let out a long breath through her nose. “It was nice…”

Shepard gulped. _No… it can’t have been the kiss to make her realize she’s gay,_ she thought guiltily. _I… I don’t want her that way anymore,_ she finally realized. The lack of desire from the kiss made it clear that Shepard had been in love with the **_idea_** of being with Ashley. Kissing her was how she’d imagine kissing Jack would feel: They both have nice lips, and the kissing would feel nice… but it just wasn’t right.

“But,” Ashley continued. “Not earth shattering, sexual orientation change worthy,” she said, furrowing her brow and frowning, afraid she was going to shatter Shepard’s heart.

“Oh thank god,” Shepard said, letting out the breath that she’d been holding in and bringing a hand to her chest.

Ashley blinked a few times, a confused smile curling the edges of her mouth. “Hey—I’m a damn good kisser!” she said playfully defensive as she gently hit Shepard in the arm.  

Shepard smiled, grabbing Ashley’s hand. “Oh, I know you are. I just…” she thought for a moment, looking Ashley in the eyes. Suddenly, all of her pent up sexual attraction towards the girl lying next to her was starting to melt away. “I didn’t feel anything, honestly. I thought that I’d feel everything that you’re supposed to feel—the spark as they say—but I didn’t. You’ve got a damn good pair of lips, though. I mean, we could always try again,” she teased.

“Nice try.” They both laughed, all of the tension between them from the last three years slowly starting to fade away. They laughed together for a few long moments, leaning towards each other for support.

Finally their laughter died down, and Shepard looked down at Ashley with a smile. “I’m sorry that I’ve put you through that for three years.”

Ashley shook her head, smiling too. “No worries. So long as we’re still friends.”

“Nope—I don’t want in your pants anymore, no more friendship for you,” Shepard teased.

Ashley gently pushed Shepard with her hand. “You’re an ass,” she laughed. “But thanks. I need something… good. It’s been rough.”

A somber composure came back over Shepard’s face. “I can imagine.” The little moments of happiness were always ruined by the fact that they were in the middle of a seemingly impossible war.

Ashley then told Shepard about her family on earth, and how she hadn’t been able to get a hold of her mother and sisters. How her sister Sarah was away on her honeymoon, but that was cut short because her marine husband was called back to Earth. Shepard sat and listened, letting Ashley express all of her worries. It was apparent that she had been holding onto the uneasiness for some time now. The conversation then meandered, talking about Ashley’s potential promotion to a spectre and how her hardships to get there, back to her family and then to the state of Earth. The rumors that Ashley was hearing were too optimistic to be true, or just out right wild speculation with no hard proof or evidence to back it up.

After about a half an hour, Shepard’s Omni-tool beeped, indicating that she had a message. She looked down briefly, seeing that it was from the Normandy (which meant EDI had sent it). It read that the inspection of the Normandy’s electrical systems was complete and that the ship and crew were clear for departure. Shepard clenched her jaw and let out a sigh.

“That’s never a good sound,” Ashley said, nudging the distracted Commander who still sat on the hospital bed with her.

Shepard clicked the Omni-tool to standby, the orange illuminating dissipating into her sleeve, and gently shook her head. She looked down at Ashley, who was looking up at her with a worried expression on her face. The scenario should have been reversed; Ashley was the one who couldn’t get a hold of her family and was going through hell by being a capable soldier that was stuck in a medical hospital. But there she was, looking up at Shepard and worried about her. Shepard smiled, gently squeezing Ashley’s hand. “I just have to get back to it. Even though I’d rather stay here.”

Ashley squeezed back, repositioning herself slightly on the hospital bed. “You don’t have to leave this instant, Skipper. I know you. You don’t let yourself have any down time. Stay for a bit longer, okay?” she said.

She wasn’t asking Shepard to stay, she was telling her to. Shepard grinned; Ashley knew her better than most and knew that if left on her own, Shepard would go non-stop until she dropped. She knew that it wasn’t healthy for her, or good for the mission—but the dire situation of the galaxy made it hard for her to justify down time for herself, even if she mandated it for the rest of her crew.

“Come on, Skipper. Fifteen more minutes won’t hurt.”

Shepard finally nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” She didn’t know when she’d be able to see Ashley again, let alone when she’d be coming back to the Citadel. They were quiet for a few moments, Shepard lost in thought about the war and how conversations with loved ones seemed petty and selfish. Ashley kept moving, trying to find a comfortable position in the stiff hospital bed.

“I have to ask though,” Ashley started, breaking Shepard out of her thoughts. “Who were you thinking about before you kissed me?”

Shepard blinked hard, and then looked at Ashley in the eyes, eyebrow raised. It took her a moment to realize what Ashley was referring to. The kiss had been a while ago and it was an odd thing to randomly bring up. She narrowed her eyes, remembering that Samantha had popped into her head. “What makes you think that I was thinking of someone?” she asked, a hint of embarrassment coming through in her tone.

Ashley smirked. “Oh please, Shepard. I know you too well to let that look go unnoticed.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes and ever-so-slightly shook her head. “What look?”

“The look you get when you’re thinking of an attractive woman.”

“How do you know I wasn’t thinking about you?” Shepard retorted, not wanting to admit Samantha had crossed her mind.

“Because you looked surprised,” Ashley said, using her elbows to help her sit up a little more. “Like someone had suddenly run through your thoughts. And your focus was way out there.”

Shepard took pity on Ashley as she struggled to find a comfortable sitting position. She stood from the bed and walked to the head of it and tried to figure out how to adjust it. “Okay—so you caught me,” she finally admitted as she found the lever to move the back of the bed up. She moved it slowly, giving Ashley enough time to move with it, into an upright position. When it clicked in place, she gave it a test tug to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and then moved back to the chair beside the bed, giving Ashley room to relax.

Ashley finished adjusting herself, finally looking comfortable in the stiff hospital bed.  “So, gimme the details. I mean, if another woman crossed your mind right before you kissed **_me_** , of all people, she’s gotta mean something to you—or have one hell of a body.”

Shepard laughed at the way Ashley made herself sound irresistible. “There are no rules saying that I can’t like more than one person at a time.”

“Mhmmm,” Ashley sounded. “So why haven’t you had a girlfriend for the past three years.”

Shepard mock glared at her. “Alright, alright. Jeez, you’re relentless,” she said, leaning back in the chair and resting her feet on the understructure of the bed. “So what if I haven’t had a thing for anyone else but you… I’m not **_that_** hopeless.”

“Ri-ight,” Ashley raised a cheerful eyebrow. “So, who’s the lucky lady who has caught your attention?”

“Good god, Ash. You’re as bad as a teenager,” Shepard said with a flat look. She then smiled, unable to hold her attempt at being stern. She let out a breath and finally relented. “Her name is Samantha.”

Ashley’s body perked, obviously interested to hear more about her. “How’d you meeeet?” If she hadn’t been confined to a bed, Shepard was sure she’d be leaning on a table, chin propped up on the back of both her hands as she asked questions like an over exaggerated school girl.

Shepard chuckled. “And you say **_I’m_** ridiculous.”

“Because you are,” she shot back. “You’re not wriggling out of this, Skipper. I want the dirty details, dammit.”

Shepard laughed. When they had been aboard the original Normandy, back when they were fighting Saren and Reapers were still an unknown, Ashley had been the person to point out that Shepard was terrible about talking about herself. She’d call her out every time she deflected something and would force her to talk about it. At first it had been intimidating; gradually it became Shepard’s saving grace, being able to tell Ashley anything and everything. “Alright, alright. She’s my Communications Specialist aboard the Normandy.”

Ashley tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly. “Wait… British?”

Shepard blinked and looked at her. “You know my comms specialist?”

“I saved your ass with Joker and Vega back on Earth, remember?” Ashley said defiantly. “There was comms specialist named Samantha in the middle of retrofitting the galaxy map when we forced the Normandy out of the holding dock. She’s the reason we had communication with you and Anderson.”

“Really?”

Ashley nodded. “Yeah—she works fast. Cute little thing, too,” she winked. Shepard pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Ashley. “What? At least you don’t have to describe her to me now.”

Shepard shrugged. “Fair.”

“Alright—so spit it out! You’ve always been about more than just looks. What’s got you caught up on her?”

Shepard chewed her lower lip. She knew that she could tell Ashley everything, be she was hesitant to own up to how angry she became after Ashley was hospitalized. She finally let out a breath and began telling Ashley the story of the first night that they met. How Samantha had come up to introduce herself but instead found Shepard punching the wall; how she got Shepard to stop and how she ran to get medical supplies. She then told her that the next morning she watched the surveillance from her room to see what happened after she’d fallen asleep. She explained how perplexed she had been as to why Samantha had kissed her in her sleep and how she adamantly wanted her off of the ship. How EDI had interfered and then she recounted their almost-kiss moment when Samantha was trying to make her feel better. She recounted the time in the observation deck how Samantha had walked in to find her yet again at her worst—brooding over the recent mission to Menae and how she fumbled over her words and blushed incessantly. She told Ashley about her random need to tell Samantha to not let the war change her, as she was perfect the way that she was. She then continued, telling her how she’d noticed that she’d seen Samantha blush again after winking at her when she was walking by with Jack, and after thanking her for setting up Sanders with a comms link to Anderson. How she’d clipped her shoulder on the wall because she had been staring at Shepard as she passed. She told her about the shuttle bay brawl with Jack and how she’d tested to see if Samantha was looking.

“After the fight I went over to talk to her; it was the first conversation we’d had where she seemed completely at ease,” Shepard finished.

Ashley nodded, as she’d kept quiet through most of Shepard’s retelling. “And?” she inquired, wanting to hear the rest.

Shepard clenched her jaw. “Well—someone pointed out that James was in a sour mood. Long story short… what started off as a harmless sparing session turned into an all-out fight that ended with me storming out of the shuttle bay.” Shepard deliberately left the whole _“he turned into a batarian and I almost smashed his face in”_ part. Ashley didn’t need to hear that. She had enough on her plate with her family. She didn’t need to add the stress of the fact that her friend might possibly be losing her sanity. “Then there was this whole thing with EDI, the ship’s AI, taking over the mech unit that we found on Mars—”

“What?!” Ashley interrupted.

Shepard flinched. “Oh yeah… um if you come aboard the Normandy—the mech you see isn’t the same one that almost killed you. It’s a different AI, EDI… So don’t shoot her on sight, okay?”

Shepard saw Ashley’s nostrils flare and her jaw clench. “We’ll save that for another conversation,” she said sternly. “What about Samantha?”

Shepard leaned back in her chair again, repositioning her feet on the bed understructure. “Well—she seemed really down after the whole incident with EDI cleared. I can’t tell if it is something to do with me or if it is something else.”

“Have you tried asking her?” Ashley offered.

Shepard shook her head. “I haven’t had the chance. I spoke to her while Liara was there, immediately after EDI left to go to the cockpit. But she excused herself to go catch some sleep not too long after we started talking and I haven’t had the chance to talk to her since.”

Ashley was quiet for a long time, mulling over the information that Shepard had given her. “So you like her?”

Shepard let out a frustrated snarl, running a hand through the loose strands of hair that framed her face, pushing them towards the back of her head. “I don’t know, Ash. She’s nice—but I don’t think I know how to read her. She’s witty and sarcastic—so I don’t know if she’s flirting with me or just being friendly or if she’s just nervous… she’s always fumbling over her words or fidgeting with her hands… but she’s never served under a CO before or been in active front line duty.”

“Oh honey,” Ashley said, like mother would to an innocent child, putting a hand down to touch Shepard’s forearm. “She isn’t nervous because you’re her CO. She’s nervous because she’s either into you or afraid to be alone with such a dangerous soldier.”

“Probably the latter,” Shepard mumbled.

“Hardly, Skipper. You’re too nice to be seen as intimidating. And besides,” she continued. “She’s probably confused as to what **_you_** think about **_her_**. Remember how Liara and Kaiden all thought you had feelings for them?”

Shepard grimaced. “Garrus too, I’ve come to find out… and most of my team from the Collector mission.”

Ashley laughed. “Oh you heart throb you,” she said between laughter. It got Shepard to smile. “Jokes aside, you’re a caring person, Shepard. It’s easy for people who don’t know you to assume that you’re being nice because you’re interested in them. I know you. You genuinely care about everyone who serves with you, no matter if they’re groundside with you or shipside supporting you,” she paused, squeezing Shepard’s forearm slightly. “Samantha’s a smart girl, if what I saw was any indication. She might have noticed how you talk to other people and just doesn’t know what to think.”

Shepard let out another sigh and shook her head. “It’s not like it matters anyway.”

Ashley raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because we’re both Alliance, Ash. I’m her CO. Ever read the fraternization policy?” she retorted. “I could get fired if I let anything form between her and I.” Ashley laughed, pulling her hand away from Shepard’s forearm to cover her mouth. Shepard narrowed her eyebrows at Ashley’s sudden laughter. “What?!”

“I’m sorry,” she said, feigning off the remaining laughter in her voice. It lingered in her eyes. “But that didn’t stop you from trying with me!”

Shepard chuckled and sat up, bringing her feet back to the ground. “Pft, that’s different. It was harmless because I knew you weren’t interested,” she joked. But Ashley made a point. It hadn’t stopped her before, so why did it bother her now? And the Alliance would never fire her while there was an active galactic war raging.

“Screw the regulations, Skipper. I know you’ve had it rough, with all the Cerberus bullshit that you’ve had to go through and basically living your life for the Alliance these last six months. But don’t write this Samantha girl off just because of some military regulation. I mean, you’re a Spectre… aren’t they above that kind of trivial regulatory bureaucratic bullshit, anyway?”

Shepard skeptically eyed her, thinking that she sounded an awful lot like Jack just then. “Maybe… you got your eye on someone for when you go Spectre?” she playfully retorted.

“Nah—but that Vega on your crew looks mi-ighty fine,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively but playfully.

Shepard faked throwing up on the floor, getting more laughter out of Ashley. Shepard’s Omni-tool beeped again. Ashley quieted her laughter while Shepard quickly checked the message. This time it was from Joker. All the crew was aboard and they were simply waiting on her. “Dammit… I really need get going, Ash.”

Ashley gave a sad smile, but nodded. “Yeah—gotta save the universe while I’m out of commission.”

Shepard smiled, standing from her seat and put a gentle hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “When you’re out of here, you’ll have to come and help me save it.”

“Just like old times?” She asked, grabbing Shepard’s hand with her own.

“Just like old times,” Shepard nodded. She gave Ashley’s shoulder a squeeze and then moved her hand. “I should get back to it.”

“Hey, before you go, promise me two things?” Ashley asked, not letting go of Shepard’s hand.

“Anything.”

“First,” she started. “Don’t refuse your feelings for Samantha. If the feeling is there, go for it.”

Shepard waited for her to continue, but her expression was expectant. “I promise,” she said quietly.

“And secondly, open up more. I know how you work. You hate talking about yourself. Let her get to know you, tell her things just because you can or because it fits in the conversation.”

Shepard clenched her jaw. “I’ll try,” she said.

Ashley tugged on her hand and looked Shepard straight into the eyes. “None of this _I’ll try_ bullshit, Skipper. You know I’m right.”

Shepard chuckled, and nodded. “I know you are. But you know me, I hate talking about myself.”

Ashley pursed her lips and shook her head. “You’re hopeless. Promise me you’ll at least make an effort to open up to her. Even if you two just become good friends.”

Shepard closed her eyes and nodded. “I promise to try.” Shepard leaned down and kissed Ashley on the forehead. “Now hurry up and get better. I’m going to need you out there sooner rather than later,” Shepard said as she straightened her posture. She winked. “And that’s an order, LC.”

Ashley threw up a mock salute. “Sir yes sir,” she said playfully back. “Stay safe, ok?”

“I always do,” Shepard said. With one final squeeze to Ashley’s hand and a smile, she finally released her and turned to walk away. She didn’t want to go, but she knew that she had bigger things that needed her attention. As much as she simply wanted to stay and reminisce with Ashley, she knew that hundreds of people were dying every minute that she sat idly chatting.

As she walked down the hall of Huerta Memorial, she couldn’t help but think of what Ashley had said about Samantha. Did she really have time to try and see if something could come between the two of them? It just seemed like another thing to worry about on her already full plate. She only had so much mental capacity to spare.

As she waited for the elevator to arrive, she had a startling revelation: _all the time you spent musing about Ashley has freed up._ She chuckled to herself, still baffled at how little she’d felt from kissing the girl she’d been longing after for three years. She was surprised how quickly she was coming to terms with the rejection this time and how quickly her mind jumped to Samantha.

_Maybe Ash has a point,_ she thought as the elevator doors slide open, releasing a large group of doctors. Shepard waited patiently and then boarded the elevator alone. _Maybe seeing where things go with Samantha could be what I need…_

* * *

The Normandy was finally underway. Shepard had been caught up at the docking bay for an additional fifteen minutes as she had run into Miranda. Shepard was caught off guard when she heard Miranda call after her, her iconic Australian accent carrying over the constant hum of voices and ship engines. It was good to see her, especially knowing that she was alive after her abrupt resignation with Cerberus. Miranda was as mysterious as Shepard imagined people perceived her, not really ever talking about herself aside from her genetic tailoring. Shepard considered her a friend, not as close a friend as Jack, but still a friend. Miranda voiced her worry about not being able to get ahold of her sister and Shepard offered her any help that she could provide. She even made a mention of Samantha, saying that she might be able to establish a link if one was found. Miranda had graciously declined any and all help, but said if she was in need of it, or if she needed a door kicked down, she’d let her know.

As quickly as Miranda has appeared, she disappeared back into the docking bay. _She really has a talent for hiding_ , Shepard had thought with a smile as she boarded the Normandy. _I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want to get away from it all. Maybe after this war is over._

She was now up in her quarters, pouring over the numerous emails she’d received from the war summit party. They were becoming impatient, wondering why Shepard and crew hadn’t showed up yet. She was subconsciously kicking herself for staying so long at the hospital. She’d been selfish, wanting to spend as much time with Ashley as she could; but the whole galaxy was depending on her actions. She knew that she needed the down time, if the last few days of her array of personal events were to be any indication; but she could never justify it after the fact when she came back to the stockpile of emails queued in her inbox.

She’d just finished reading an email from Urdnot Wrex informing her that he would be present at the summit when Joker’s voice sounded over the comms channel. “Commander, Dr. Chakwas wants to see you.”

Shepard put the data pad she’d been using to read her emails down ungraciously and immediately started rubbing her temples with her forefingers. _I don’t have time for Chakwas._ She took in few breaths before responding. “Joker, tell her that I’m busy.”

“Commander,” Dr. Chakwas voice suddenly sounded. “As the medical professional aboard this ship, who **_you_** reinstated, might I add, I demand that you come and see me.”

Shepard cringed. She ran her hands over her face before she let them fall to her lap. “On my way,” she said dejectedly.

The comms speakers went quiet, indicating that Chakwas had disconnected the channel from her end. Shepard shook her head and stood. It wasn’t that she disliked Chakwas. She rather enjoyed the salt and peppered woman. She was the mother type of the ship and was a damn good doctor. She had no problem going to socialize with her, like she used to do while serving under Cerberus. But she still had an apprehension towards doctors from her time after Elysium.

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and then turned to leave her cabin.

Dr. Chakwas was waiting expectantly in the med bay, standing a few feet in front of her desk with her active Omni-tool glowing at her touch. Shepard walked through the doors, the ever familiar _whoosh_ of the doors displacing a few strands of hair from behind her ear.

“Ah, Shepard,” Chakwas said, looking up from her Omni-tool, dropping her arm to her side. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Did I have a choice?” Shepard retorted, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“It was either you come to me, or I hunt you down somewhere on the ship,” Chakwas smiled. “I feel that you’ve been avoiding me.”

Shepard walked further into the med bay, leaning on one of the exam tables. “I’ve just been busy.”

“As have we all,” Chakwas said darkly. She was quiet for a moment before she moved to stand in front of Shepard. She reactivated her Omni-tool. “I’m going to do a quick scan of your cybernetics.”

Shepard narrowed her eyebrows. She knew that that wasn’t the only reason she’d called her down here, but she went along with it. “Something wrong with them?”

“I’d like to hope not,” she said, starting the scan. “Considering how much money Cerberus poured into putting them into you, I’ll wager that they’ll last long after you’ve passed from old age.”

Shepard laughed darkly. “Right. I’ll be lucky if I see my next birthday.”

Chakwas didn’t respond. She tapped her Omni-tool a few times, and ran a few more body scans. “Everything seems to be in working order. I’m glad the cybernetics provides you with fast healing, as I see no bruises from yesterday’s events.”

Shepard shrugged. She still felt sore. “What else did you want to talk to me about?” She asked, not wanting to force Chakwas to skirt around whatever it was that was bothering her.

Chakwas let out a sigh, dropping her Omni-tool side to cross over her stomach, her other arm resting on it as she brought her hand up to her temple. “Shepard, I’m worried about your mental health.”

“What?!” Shepard asked a little too shocked for her liking. “Why?” She demanded after a moment. She knew that Chakwas had seen what had happened in the shuttle bay. Maybe that was all that she was referring to. Shepard knew that she had mental issues, and probably wasn’t technically fit for duty, but that was part of the reason she never spoke to doctors about it. She’d found ways to hide it from everyone else, and she thought she’d been successful at doing so…with the exception of the last few days.

Chakwas brought her hand down to her chin. “You’ve been a soldier for some time… you’ve seen horrific things. You’ve been through more than most soldiers can even begin to imagine.”

“So have you,” Shepard said quickly, motioning to her with her right hand while it was still deep in her hoodie pocket. “You were abducted by collectors and are alive to tell about it.”

“Only thanks to you, Shepard,” she offered back with a sad smile. “But that’s hardly the same as what you’ve been through in your lifetime.”

“Two life times, remember?” she responded bitterly. “I came back from the dead.”

“Precisely,” Chakwas said, dropping her hands to her sides. “Tell me, do you feel guilty that you were given a second chance?”

Shepard’s jaw immediately clenched. She looked to the ground, not wanting to look at Dr. Chakwas for fear of showing just how guilty she felt.

“Shepard?” she prodded.

Shepard let out a long breath. Not breaking her staring contest with the floor. She’s done her max output of personal sharing with Ashley today. With Ashley, it was easy. But opening up to Chakwas was entirely different. Finally, she said, “Yeah.”

Chakwas let her remain silent for a few moments. “Do you feel guilty?”

This was the last thing that Shepard wanted to talk about. She was already so behind in her correspondences with the war summit and was constantly getting updated mission assignments about suspicious activities of Cerberus. “Yes, Karin,” she started bitterly as she began to clench her hands in effort to suppress the hot feeling behind her eyes. “I feel guilty that I was given a second chance and so many others weren’t. I feel guilty that I squandered that second chance and we’re still not ready for the Reapers. I feel guilty that I’ve had to hear of the deaths of good men and women while I run around playing politician. I feel guilty tha—”

“Shepard, that’s enough,” Chakwas interject sternly bringing up a hand with her palm pacing outwards toward Shepard. “That train of thought is a slippery slope that is impossible to climb back out of.”

Shepard’s hands had gone into tight fists in her pockets, and her forearms were beginning to tremble from the anger of what she’d said. Thankfully, the hotness behind her eyes did not yield any tears. There was just anger, and confusion, and guilt. There was no reason for her to be alive. She was nothing special. The Illusive Man could have brought anyone back to life, but he had chosen her for some unknown reason. And coming back hadn’t made a damn bit of difference. They were still no more ready for the Reapers today than they were while they had fought the collectors. All Shepard had done was give the galaxy more time to sit and do nothing but call her crazy.

“Who do you talk to?” Chakwas asked abruptly.

Shepard’s eyes darted from the spot she’d been looking at on the floor to meet Chakwas’ eyes. “Excuse me?”

Chakwas let out a quiet sigh, gathering her hands in front of her stomach. “I’m no psychologist, Shepard, but talking is a healthy form of releasing pent up thought. As I know that you’re aware of, given your medical history.”

_Of course she’s seen my records._ Shepard grimaced, looking away from Chakwas again. _I’m sure there are detailed records saying just how much talk therapy I had to go through to be considered fit for duty. Even then I probably shouldn’t have been released…_ she thought darkly. _After Elysium… I should have never seen the battlefield again. But no… the Alliance needed me because they think I’m something special, just like the Illusive Man thought. They all probably think that I don’t have any emotional instability. That I can kill all day long and sleep like a baby at night._ Shepard jaw continued to clench, making the muscles around her face and neck flex. _If only they all knew how much I doubted every action I’ve taken…_

“So, who do you talk to?” Chakwas sounded.

Shepard forced herself to move her jaw, releasing the tension. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her composure before speaking. She quickly counted to ten, and then let out a long breath, opening her eyes to then meet Chakwas’ again. “Um… no one, I guess.”

“No one at all? Ever?”

“Not recently, no,” Shepard admitted. Trying to make a stab at a joke, she added, “Everything usually just boils and boils until it explodes… then I feel sorry for whoever is in the room.” The look on Chakwas’ face was not amused.She mentally scoffed to herself. _Samantha would have laughed…_

“Is there someone usually in the room when that happens?”

“No.” She decided that trying to make light of the conversation wasn’t going to get her anywhere. And she desperately wanted to get away from the conversation. “Usually I’m alone.”

“Has anything like what happened in the shuttle bay happened before?” she asked, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“No,” Shepard lied.

“Alright, Shepard. As your medical professional aboard to Normandy, and as your friend, I think you need to find someone that you can talk to.” The look on Chakwas’ face then changed. She was no longer the stern military doctor. She was the matronly friend who was genuinely concerned. “Someone that you can divulge everything that you’re feeling to.”

Before she could stop herself, Shepard laughed. One singular laugh. “I think if I did that, that person wouldn’t be able to cope or they’d lose faith in our mission. If I told anyone half of the doubts that run through my head on a daily basis, everyone would jump ship and start hoping that some act of god would come to save them all.” It came off more sarcastically than she’d meant it to, but it was honestly what she worried about.

“That’s why you choose wisely,” Chakwas countered. “What about Williams?”

Shepard immediately shook her head, taking her hands out of her pockets to cross them over her stomach. “No… she’s going through hell right now with the death of her sister’s husband. I can’t add my issues onto hers. I’m the one whose there for her.”

“So who’s there for you?”

Shepard’s racing thoughts suddenly stopped. She blinked slowly. What Chakwas said rang similar to what Ashley had told her earlier. Not exactly so, but enough. She let out a sigh, running through the list of people aboard the Normandy in her head. Liara was a no, James was a no, and so were Garrus, EDI, and Joker. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to subject Samantha to it all. “… You?” she finally offered up, defeated at her short list.

Chakwas gave a warm smile, followed by a quiet chuckle. “True—I am. But would you really feel comfortable telling me?”

Shepard shrugged and shook her head. “I really wouldn’t feel comfortable telling anyone the things that run through my head.”

“Well,” Chakwas started, bringing a thoughtful hand to her chin again. “I can always inquire to the whereabouts of Kelly Chambers and see if she’s available to come aboard.”

“Oh please don’t,” Shepard begged, paling slightly, her arms falling slightly as she cringed away from the doctor.

Chakwas’ eyebrows rose in a questioning manner. “Why ever not?”

“She always… given me the creeps,” Shepard admitted sheepishly, not meeting Chakwas’ gaze.

Before her elegant hand could cover her mouth, a guttural laugh escaped Chakwas’ lips. “Why on earth would you say that?”

Shepard felt squeamish, never having told anyone how the Yeoman had made her feel uncomfortable. “I dunno… she always seemed to be trying to sexualize everyone somehow. She was nice… but she also practically worshiped Cerberus. I’d really rather not have her on board.”

“Fair enough, Shepard,” a twinkle of laughter still in her eye. Chakwas brought her hand down from her chin to rest atop the other crossed over her stomach. “Then who do you think you’re going to start talking to?”

Shepard swallowed hard. She knew who she wanted to talk to. She wanted to talk to the honeyed skin Comms Specialist who smelt of tea and who could calm her down in an instant. But she didn’t want to subject her to the constant doubt that floated through her head on a regular basis. In that moment, she admitted to herself that she indeed liked the comms specialist. She’d never wanted to shield someone from the horrific truths of war the way that she wished she could for Samantha. She was a perfect woman just as she was. The things in Shepard’s thoughts… those demons would do nothing good for the comms specialist. She was willing to get to know Samantha, to flirt and maybe something more eventually… but she didn’t want her to see any more of her instability than she already had.

“Seriously, Karin, I’m fine. I’ve cooped this long.”

“Shepard, I must insist. You couldn’t keep yourself in check in the shuttle bay yesterday,” She put a hand up to quiet Shepard’s rebuttal. “I know that you had some sort of post-traumatic flash back. You need to talk with someone. If not for you, do it for the safety of your crew.”

Shepard felt the blood drain from her face. She was well aware of the fact that had had PTSD. Everything pointed to it. She just didn’t want to hear it or have Chakwas officially diagnose her. She’d be decommissioned if it hit Alliance HQ.

Shepard finally let out a sigh and said, “For now… Is it alright if I just come to you?”

“That’s fine with me, Shepard,” Chakwas started, eyeing the commander suspiciously. “But are you going to come to me on your own will, or am I going to have to make appointments for you to keep?”

Shepard mulled over the options for a quick moment. She’d never come on her own accord. “Appointments will probably work better,” she admitted.

Chakwas nodded, moving her arms to access her Omni-tool. She pressed a few buttons, typing something in. “You’re to report to me first thing in the morning day after next,” she said in a matter-o-fact tone.

 “Yes ma’am,” Shepard nodded. After a moment, realizing there was nothing left to say, Shepard turned and walked out of the med bay, fully knowing she didn’t intend to keep the appointment.


	8. Tip of the Tongue

Once Samantha and Steve boarded the Normandy, they both went straight to work after saying a quick _see you later_. Samantha dropped her things off at her footlocker in the crew quarters and decided that she couldn’t wait to try out her new toothbrush. No matter how much she brushed with a regular brush and flossed, nothing was quite as satisfying as the feeling of the cison pro mark 4 buzzing along her gums. The new brush was just as good as the old one, but she was looking forward to using it several times a day for the next few weeks to loosen up the stiff bristles of the brush.

Refreshed, she stowed the toothbrush and then headed up to the CIC, her tongue running along her polished teeth as she rode the elevator. The Normandy was still under inspection for electrical problems, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get started on the data feeds for the war summit; the galaxy map and her station had already been cleared by the inspection team. As her keyboard flickered to life to her touch she shook her head at how far behind she was with setting up the data feeds. She should have been working on them before she notified Shepard about Grissom—but ship life and missions had been a bit overwhelming, allowing little time for her to focus on her work. Not to mention the drama from yesterday’s shuttle bay incident and EDI’s new found body.

Sam let out a heavy breath. _I refuse to think about EDI right now,_ she thought as she logged in to the various programs she needed to begin work. She had a few new flagged messages for Shepard that she’d need to disseminate to her, and a few other intercepted Cerberus messages that the Alliance wanted a second opinion on. Cerberus communication traffic was fairly heavy, and she calculated that she wasn’t even seeing an eighth of the correspondences.

There was one in particular that caught her attention. It was a message that was flagged in regards to the colony on Benning. _Dammit Cerberus, could you at least wait to give me juicy data tidbits until I’ve established these feeds?_ Samantha thought as she forced herself toggle into another program to actually start her work. _Oh, and while you’re busying yourselves with listening and obeying my delusional wishes, why don’t you just disband or self implode while you’re at it? Kaythanksthat’dbegreat._

Samantha had tried to keep herself busy over the last few days by attempting to allocate more information from Cerberus correspondences. Ever since she’d found the information about Grissom, she was determined to make sure nothing else of note slipped her radar. And she enjoyed analyzing the intercepted messages; their encryption codes were more advanced than most things she’d seen while working at R&D. She saw it as a challenge, keeping a tally of the correspondences she’d intercepted and cracked. Earlier this morning she’d successfully intercepted activity reports from Sanctum and Tuchanka. She began thinking about putting up some kind of bragging display, like gold star stickers, on the hand rail to the galaxy map—leaving a sticky reminder to whoever used the railing that she was the queen of decryption.

 _Gold stars, huh Traynor?_ she mused. She considered herself a “Gold Star Lesbian,” a term coined in the middle to late 20 th century for lesbians who had never been with or slept with a man. She’d always giggled whilst at Alliance academy or boot camp when upper ranking officials would point out how many medals they had, often times gold leafed and in the shape of a star.

As she began uplinking with the Salarian fleet to acquire their specific algorithms, her discussion with Steven floated back into her head; the conversation hadn’t been what she’d needed to hear, but it had given her a few things to think about. He and Liara were right, of course: no matter what her motivations were, she needed to stop analyzing Shepard. She was convinced, though, that there was never going to be anything to come of it, but there was no harm in hoping for a friendship between herself and the ever attractive Commander. But she still had another matter that worried her more so than her confused feelings for Shepard: EDI.

EDI had always been helpful to Samantha, even when she had tried to pass as an advanced VI. She didn’t think that EDI wanted to replace her, or that Shepard was even thinking to nix Samantha’s position. But she couldn’t help feeling like she wasn’t integral to the Normandy. She could intercept correspondences anywhere, from a desk at the Alliance HQ or from a station in the Citadel—and the data feeds to other ships for military meetings could be established by EDI without any functionality being taken away from the cyber warfare suite. She didn’t **_need_** to physically serve on the Normandy.

As Samantha worked on the data feeds, establishing as many links to the other summit attendees’ ships as she could without being in the same star system, her mind meandered around the idea of how much she was actually needed on the ship or if she was just another mouth to feed, taking up valuable resources. She would lose herself in thought, occasionally disrupted with a complicated algorithm that demanded her full attention.

She’d been at her station for about two hours when the Normandy finally began procedures to depart from the Citadel. She hadn’t even noticed that Shepard had boarded. _She must have walked straight past me to the elevators,_ Samantha thought as the Normandy finally began to pull away from the Citadel docking bay.

A strange feeling passed over her—she was disappointed that Shepard hadn’t stopped to say anything to her. It was silly—as she knew that the Commander had a lot on her plate. _Maybe I shouldn’t have stormed off so quickly last night_ , she thought.

Last night, after the incident in the shuttle bay and the EDI procuring a new body, she’d abruptly excused herself from speaking with Commander Shepard and Liara. She had been overwhelmed by the fact that EDI had a body that she couldn’t even show concern for Shepard, like Liara had been doing. That and the odd feeling of jealousy when Shepard mentioned that she wanted Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams to join the crew.

 _Maybe she thinks I was upset about the shuttle bay,_ she thought as she toggled into another screen. _Maybe she is ashamed about what happened and simply doesn’t want to interact with anyone. Or maybe she noticed how you reacted when she mentioned Williams…_

_Stop it._

_Stop what?_

_You’re analyzing again._

_It’s kind of my job._

_Not analyzing Shepard._

_Point taken._

And she went back to busying herself with long range correspondences and algorithms, feeling a headache formulating in the rear of her brain.

* * *

Samantha knew that Shepard was on the ship, or else they would not have left the Citadel, but she was still surprised three hours after they’d left port when she received an email from her Commanding Officer.

It was a simple email, asking to make sure she’d been forwarded all the correspondence related to the summit and asking for a status update. It was formal, to the point. Samantha was caught off guard by how un-Shepard like it sounded. Even though they’d only chatted a handful of times, she could tell that Shepard had **_some_** sense of humor, or at the very least was extremely personable. The email had been cold, straight to the point, with no personal quips added. It took a lot of effort, but Samantha replied with an equally professional email, avoiding her usual witty remarks.

Shepard replied with a simple “thank you” and that was all that Samantha heard from her until Shepard walked into the CIC an hour or so later. The few hours at cruising speed had been uneventful for Samantha; her headache had spread to her temples and she’d established 80% of the feeds and was currently working and attempting to uplink a connection to a small ship. The signatures were archaic and she assumed it was from a ship that was shuttling the Krogan diplomat to the summit. The Krogans weren’t allowed war ships, but were allowed small frigates to shuttle them from planet to planet. She couldn’t help but fall back into her struggling inner dialogue about how needed she was as she looked at the connection feed, trying to figure out how to converge the old Krogan system into the newer interfaces of the Turian and Salarian ships, and the Normandy.

 _Dammit,_ she thought. _EDI could establish this in no time, and here I am trying to calculate the appropriate algorithm so I don’t overload their entire navigation system._ She chewed on her bottom lip as she continued calculating in her head. _EDI doesn’t need to breathe or eat…why am I even on the payroll roster?_

Samantha heard the elevator open behind her and heavy footfalls echoed from the CIC floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Commander Shepard walk over to her console. Samantha looked up and offered Shepard a quick smile but it went unnoticed. Samantha’s gaze lingered; Shepard was wearing her casual Alliance uniform with her N7 hoodie draped informally overtop.

 _She practically_ **lives** _in that thing,_ Samantha thought, imagining that it probably smelled like her as well; a smell that made her knees buckle ever-so-slightly. Before she had a chance to think anything else, she noticed how exhausted Shepard looked. She suppressed the smirk that had snuck onto her lips from the hoodie and frowned.

_I wonder how much yesterday’s brawl drained her… she looks more tired than usual._

She turned back to her own console. _She’s got the entire weight of the galaxy on her shoulders and I’m standing here, upset because an AI has a body_ , she thought darkly. _Perspective, Traynor. You and your position are probably not even close to being on Shepard’s list of worries._ She took in a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the algorithm she was currently coding for the Salarian ship to uplink to the Krogan’s.

She stared blankly at her screen—her mind was still drawing a blank and her increasing headache wasn’t helping. She couldn’t move on past her thoughts and worries of EDI. _Stop it, Traynor. You have bigger than yourself things to worry about right now,_ she finally told herself, putting her hands flat on the table on either side of her key board, hunching slightly and closing her eyes. _C’mon—the galaxy is facing utter annihilation and you’re worried that you’re going to be replaced by a sexy, witty hunk of AI Mech metal._

“Joker,” Samantha heard Shepard ask. “ETA until we reach the Pranas system?”

“About five hours, Commander,” Joker responded immediately over the comms.

“Thanks,” Shepard said, sounding as if she was right next to Samantha. She opened her eyes and glanced to the side. She jumped slightly when she noticed that Shepard was within arm’s reach of her. “Traynor, can I have a word?”

Samantha quickly straightened her posture—forcing her lingering thoughts about EDI out of her head—standing to attention. “O-of course, Commander,” she responded as she put her hand up to salute.

Shepard smiled and shook her head. “You don’t need to salute me when no one else is around.”

She tentatively brought her hand back down to her side. “Right,” she answered bashfully. She immediately mentally kicked herself—she didn’t want to stumble over her words in front of Shepard, not after coming to the resolve of trying to simply be friends with her and to not analyze everything. “How can I be of assistance, Commander?” she asked more confidently.

Shepard looked from Samantha to quickly around the CIC. She looked back, meeting her eyes and said, “Not here. Why don’t you accompany me to the Starboard Observatory room?” she offered, her thumb jutting out towards the elevators.

Samantha raised an eyebrow and looked from Shepard to her console and back. “I’m in the middle of my shift. These data feeds are awfully clingy and they like to have my full attention.”

A playful smile spread across Shepard’s lips. “You’re Commanding Officer is basically telling you that she’d like you to play hooky, Specialist,” she winked. “And you’re concerned about overly-attached data feeds?”

Proud of herself for not letting the wink make her blush, Samantha continued her banter. “Well—if you want to deal with the jealous glares that they’ll give you, I’ll chance it. But not for too long… if I don’t get these buggers set up before the summit, you’ll have to come and help me finish.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Shepard grinned. “I look at electronics and they break. I promise not to keep you for too long, Traynor.” She stepped back, opening to the side to allow Samantha to walk in front of her.

Samantha hit a few keys and locked her console. _Can’t have someone lean against the keyboard and undo all of my progress,_ she thought. _Or accidently overload another ship’s system._

She nodded and then stepped away from her console. She walked in front of Shepard, but Shepard reached around her to hit the elevator door. “Oh, look at you being all gentlemanly like,” she said before she could catch herself.

But she didn’t flinch at her glaringly obvious flirtation as Shepard began to laugh. “I’ll keep it to a minimum. I don’t want to open my inbox to find data feed hate mail.”  

Samantha smiled to herself as she stepped into the elevator and turned to see Shepard’s smiling face. _See, you’re already making her smile. Now quit thinking that she’s flirting with you and this whole façade that you only want to be friends will go along flawlessly,_ she thought to herself as the elevator shut.

* * *

Shepard walked out of the med bay to find the mess hall relatively full of crewmembers. She concentrated on her breathing—her emotions were still high strung from her conversation with Dr. Chakwas but she didn’t want to let her crew see it. She nodded to a few of them as she made her way to the elevator. She wanted to smile at them, but knew it would look fake and forced.

The elevator doors slid open, releasing a small crowd of more crew members. Shepard stepped back to allow them room and each one of them gave an informal salute as they passed, headed to their bunks or to the mess. She did her best to nod to each of them, but felt disheartened when she couldn’t place any of their names. She pushed her desired floor button and then leaned against the rear wall of the elevator as the doors shut, letting out a long breath.

Shepard took a deep inhale as she stepped into the elevator, trying to focus on the positives of the day to calm herself down from talking with Chakwas. Talking with Ashley had been a good pick-me-up—Shepard had been able to hear someone laugh and hold someone’s hand. She knew it was silly that simply having physical contact with someone else made her feel better even when it wasn’t intimate. When talking with Samantha, she’d always had the urge to reach out and touch her, like she so often did with Ashley. But Samantha was an unknown… it had been alright with Ashley after a while, because they became so close but there was never any worry of breaking regulations. Shepard was positive that Samantha was a lesbian…her actions the first night they met, what she’d said to Vega in the shuttle bay, the disgusted look on her face when Vega took off his shirt. But what Shepard didn’t know was how much of a straight nosed Alliance Soldier she was. Would she immediately run to HQ if Shepard flirted with her?

 _She hasn’t yet,_ she thought as the elevator began its slow rise. _But maybe she didn’t realize that I was flirting with her…_ **I** _didn’t realize it until after talking with Ash._

What Ashley had said to her suddenly came floating back into her thoughts. She’d tried to ignore it when she’d come back on the ship. She’d seen Samantha at her console, diligently working and had wanted to talk to her then, but she’d spent too much time already talking with Ashley and had things to accomplish herself. The Reapers weren’t waiting, so neither could she. She had tried to convince herself that emailing Samantha for an update would get them talking, but she couldn’t bring herself to be informal over email. That was a traceable document that the Alliance could track and use to discharge her—even though she knew that that was foolish thinking in the present state of galactic war.

It was an interesting revelation: Shepard had always wanted Ashley even though she knew that she’d never be with her. But it was the idea of her that had kept her going. It was something she would think about when she was having trouble sleeping or while she was trying to clear her head between missions. And she had never had to worry about spending time with her since Ashley accompanied her on every mission. They were friends and they’d talk when they wanted to, but Shepard never had to **_devote_** time to her. They were always together anyway. It was easy. It had been simple.

Where did that leave Samantha? Shepard had already silently admitted to herself that she liked the Oxford Comms Specialist while she had talked with Chakwas. And being 90% positive that she was a lesbian now brought on a possibility of an actual relationship that had never been there with Ashley.

 _You don’t know that. For all you know she has a wife somewhere,_ Shepard thought as the elevator slowed.

 _Talk to her,_ the memory of Ashley voice reminded her.

_I don’t have time…_

The doors opened and revealed the glow of the galaxy map. Out of habit, Shepard glanced to Samantha’s console and saw her still there, working away. Then she blinked: she hadn’t noticed which floor she’d selected and thought she was headed to her quarters. As she left the med bay, she had intended to go to her cabin and finish a few correspondences. But here she was. She thought about letting the doors close and going back up to her quarters, but something kept her from doing so.

 _You need human interaction right now,_ she thought as her conversation with Chakwas slowly started resonating in her head again. _Being cooped up by yourself will just cause your thoughts to fester and you’ll probably have another break down._

She stepped out of the elevator and went straight to her console. Chakwas had definitely hit a few nerves in their brief conversation. Shepard had always had mixed feelings of being brought back, but she’d never talked about it. Not to anyone. She’d never even admitted to herself that she felt guilty for being brought back to life. But guilt was something that was a constant driver for Shepard; fuel she used against the enemy. After she made the choice between Ashley and Kaiden on Virmire, she’d felt an insurmountable mound of guilt for making her choice based on how she felt for Ashley rather than Kaiden’s qualifications as a soldier; the guilt haunted her until she learned to use that guilt as a driving force to stop Saren and the heretic geth. Every time she’d felt like giving up from being injured, or being too tired, or feeling hopeless from the devastating odds of it all, Kaiden’s face flashed through her mind and she knew that she had to do it for him. She had to make his death mean more than a bad decision based in personal desires in an overwhelming war. His sacrifice had to be worth it.

She logged onto her console and let out a long breath. Kaiden hadn’t been her driving force for some time. After she killed Saren on the Citadel, she’d felt an odd peace and finally let him rest, guilt no longer driving her actions. But now—after talking with Chakwas, she felt that she now needed to find a new driving force through all the of the honorable men and women who had already died by the Reapers hands while she was allowed to come back.

She opened her email and wrote a quick email to Admiral Hackett; she wanted a memorial wall on the Normandy—a list of all the fallen soldiers. She needed a physical reminder of why she was given a second chance—so that not one more name was put on the board. The email was quick and hasty, but it was going to have to do.

After the email was sent, she glanced up and looked over her right shoulder at Samantha. The honeyed Comms. Specialist had let out a frustrated sigh and now had both of her hands on her desk, her eyes closed. Shepard let herself look for a long moment. _She looks as tired as I feel,_ she thought as she watched her breathe for a few moments. But there was something else off about her. Shepard remembered how she’d abruptly left the night before, after the EDI incident.

She needed to act on Ashley advice and talk to her. She didn’t have any new correspondences that needed her attention and she wasn’t planning on taking too much of her time, but she needed to figure out what was bothering her favorite Comms. Specialist. And if she talked to her, maybe she’d be able to focus more on the war summit needs and ready herself for what she knew was going to be a political shit-storm of a meeting. Primarch Victus had made it clear to Shepard through a few emails that he intended to get the Krogan’s help and she knew that that wasn’t going to go over well with the Salarians—the race that had uplifted them and then turned around to repress them after their usefulness ran dry after the Rachni wars.

“Joker, ETA until we reach the Pranas system?” she asked as she logged off of her console and started walking towards Samantha.

“About five hours, Commander.” 

“Thanks,” she responded as she came to a stop on the opposite side of the galaxy map platform. Samantha looked up from her position and then gave an involuntary twitch, obviously startled by Shepard’s sudden appearance. She thought that her loud footsteps would have announced her, but Samantha had apparently been lost in thought. “Traynor, can I have a word?”

Samantha stood up right and into attention. She began to raise her hand to salute, “O-of course, Commander.”

Shepard stopped herself from reaching out to gently grab Samantha’s arm. She’d apparently spent too much time with Ashley today. “You don’t need to salute me when no one else is around.” If Shepard could have her own way, none of her crew would salute her. Ever. She was their leader, sure—but she wasn’t a better person or more important in her mind.

Samantha awkwardly brought her hand down to her side. “Right,” she started, sounding flustered. She blinked a few times, as if she was regaining her composure.

 _Shit… I hope I didn’t startle her_ **that** _badly,_ Shepard thought.

“How can I be of assistance, Commander?” Samantha asked, sounding more grounded.

Shepard looked around the CIC. There wasn’t anyone readily nearby; she could probably talk here and no one would hear aside from EDI—who could listen in on them anywhere on the ship if she so chose to do so. She looked back and met Samantha’s eyes. They were brown like Ashley’s, but softer. A honeyed hue circled around her pupil, and faded into a darker brown. _Everything about her is honeyed,_ Shepard thought randomly, suppressing a smile. She felt that she could easily get lost, looking into the many shades of brown in her irises. “Not here,” she found herself saying before really knowing why. “Why don’t you accompany me to the Starboard Observatory room?” she offered, motioning to the elevators with her thumb.

Samantha raised an eyebrow and looked from Shepard to her console and back. “I’m in the middle of my shift. These data feeds are awfully clingy and like to have my full attention.”

A smile spread across Shepard’s face. She hadn’t heard Samantha throw a witty remark since the shuttle bay. Shepard felt that it was time to make up for the awfully formal email that she’d sent earlier. “You’re Commanding Officer is basically telling you that she’d like you to play hooky, Specialist,” she winked. “And you’re concerned about overly-attached data feeds?”

A playful smile finally appeared on Samantha’s face. “Well—if you want to deal with the jealous glares that they’ll give you, I’ll chance it. But not for too long… if I don’t get these buggers set up before the summit, you’ll have to come and help me finish.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Shepard grinned. “I look at electronics and they break. I promise not to keep you for too long, Traynor.” She took a step back, giving room to Samantha to walk in front of her. Samantha looked at Shepard, a mischievous smirk curled on her lips; she locked her console and then began to walk in front of Shepard. As Samantha moved her hand to reach for the elevator holo, Shepard reached around her and hit it first.

“Oh, look at you being all gentlemanly like,” Samantha said with a laugh as Shepard motioned for her to step in first.

“I’ll keep it to a minimum,” she said as she hit the 3 for the crew deck. “I don’t want to open my inbox to find data feed hate mail.”

It sounded like she was flirting; and the thoughtful look on Samantha’s face made Shepard think that she thought that it sounded like she was flirting too. Coupled with the fact that Samantha was smiling to herself and not looking at Shepard was a dead giveaway.

 _Alright… so after I find out what’s bothering her…I’ll find out if she’s single,_ she thought to herself as she clasped her hands together behind her back while she waited for the elevator to finish its descent to the crew deck.

She remained quiet though, trying to figure out why she’d approached Samantha in the first place. She’d been so keen on avoiding her earlier that she was beginning to confuse herself. She glanced at her and saw that she was lost in thought too. Shepard still felt that there was too much to be done to warrant spending time with Samantha, but she knew that Samantha was probably feeling a lot of pressure from the war summit needs. _It’s in the best interest of my mission to make sure she’s alright,_ she jokingly justified to herself.

Content with her answer she let go of her hands and the elevator doors opened again. Shepard motioned for Samantha to go first.

“So, when you’re groundside, do you still be gentlemanly and let everyone else go first?” Samantha joked as she passed.

“Typically I let Garrus go first,” Shepard responded, suppressing a smile. “He’s got enough scars that he doesn’t notice when he gets a new one.”

Samantha glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the starboard observation deck. “He has just about as many scars as you do.”

“True,” Shepard said as the observation doors opened. Samantha’s comment caught her off guard and made her remember that Samantha had undressed her and put her to bed that first night on the Normandy. But she’d also seen her take off her shirt in the shuttle bay. Maybe that was what she was referring to. Trying to keep the joking spirit alive, she added, “But my face is still at least pretty.” _Why did I say that?_ she immediately thought, forcing the heat in her neck to not to turn into a blush.

Samantha laughed. “That it is, Commander.”

Shepard looked up at Samantha and noticed her catch herself. Samantha went from being confident to unsure again in a matter of seconds. She wouldn’t look Shepard in the face, as she chewed on her lower lip and speckles of pink radiated out onto her cheeks. Shepard looked at her for a moment; that was the second time she’d notice her demeanor change. She finally motioned to a couch that was adjacent to the window with her hand and Samantha began moving towards it. “All jokes aside, I actually always take point on the ground. If anyone is going to be shot first, it’ll be me.”

Samantha sat on the far side of the couch, closest to the window, and looked back at Shepard. She simply nodded.

Shepard sat down on the seat cushion next to her, turning slightly towards Samantha and pulling her leg up on the couch. She knew she could sit on the other side of the couch, but she liked sitting close to the people she was talking to. That and it made her close enough to smell Samantha’s ever fragrant tea scent.

“So,” Shepard started, pulling her foot closer to herself with her hand. “Tell me what’s up?”

“Sorry?” Samantha responded, tilting her head to the side.

“Samantha, speak freely, what’s wrong?”

Samantha blinked a few times and shook her head. “What? Honestly, there isn’t anything wrong, Commander.”

Shepard noticed how hastily Samantha spoke; it made Shepard’s initial intuition that something was bothering Samantha more concrete. “Your eyes and demeanor say otherwise.”

Samantha let out a singular laugh. “Are you some kind of body language reader or something?”

“It’s just something that you learn along the way when you’re in Command.”

Samantha looked at her for a moment before she turned away, looking down to the ground. “Commander, it’s nothing. My petty dramas really shouldn’t concern you,” she said, bringing her hands together to fidget with her nails.

Shepard leaned forward and apprehensively put her right hand over Samantha’s fidgeting ones. She knew that she shouldn’t touch her so intimately, but they were alone in the room and Shepard still hadn’t quite changed her mindset of friendliness from her time with Ashley. Samantha looked up and met Shepard’s gaze a second after her hand overlaid hers. She looked startled and was looking for an answer as to why Shepard was so caringly touching her.

“You’re a part of my team, Samantha,” Shepard started, squeezing her hands just so. “Your worries and issues are mine, too.  Put me at ease and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Samantha looked down to Shepard’s hands and then back up to her eyes. She was quiet for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I’m not sure, Commander. I know it is silly… given all that has happened aboard the Normandy yesterday…”

Shepard blinked, tension in her spine making her leaning position suddenly uncomfortable. The shuttle bay incident suddenly raced through her thoughts. She tried not to let any of it show on her face as she rubbed Samantha’s hand with her thumb, urging her to continue.

Samantha’s shoulders fell slightly and she relaxed into the couch more. “I guess I just feel like I’m not integral to the team. EDI could probably do my job and do it better and faster.” She moved one of her hands out from under Shepard’s and brought anxious fingers up to her forehead, nervously rubbing just above her eyebrow.

The tension in Shepard’s spine lessened. “Wait, you’re worried about EDI?”

Samantha’s demeanor seemed to worsen, as if she was ashamed to admit what she’d said. Shepard could tell by the way it took the smile out of her eyes that Samantha had been thinking about this for some time. Samantha put her elbow on the armrest of the couch, her forehead leaning on the same hand and glanced out of the window. “She’s an advanced AI. Probably more advanced than the Geth. She can run tests in nano-seconds, calculate algorithms faster than any computer program, and seemingly has all of the answers—not to mention a glorious backside.”

Shepard pondered the thought of EDI’s “glorious backside” for a moment, quickly coming to the determination that she thought Samantha’s was better, after glancing at her every time she’d left the war room to pass into the CIC, or every time she exited the elevator. Shepard let herself smile and then she moved her hand from Samantha’s and put a gentle finger under her chin. It made Samantha jump slightly, as if Shepard’s touch to her chin had caused an electrical shock. She looked immediately at Shepard, her head leaving her hand that she’d been leaning on. Shepard moved her hand from Samantha’s chin to her far shoulder, griping her gently.

“EDI couldn’t replace you, Samantha. Sure, she’s an advanced AI—but she’s used for our ship functionality. What you do,” she paused and squeezed her shoulder slightly. “I don’t think could be done by anyone else. EDI is focused on the ship… she wouldn’t have caught the distress beacon irregularity from Grissom. But **_you_** did.”

Samantha’s mouth opened slightly as she considered what Shepard said. Finally, she let herself smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to let it affect me, Commander.”

“Hey,” Shepard started, moving her hand from Samantha’s shoulder, but put her other arm across the back of the couch, almost over Samantha’s back. “If you want me to call you Samantha when we’re talking alone, then you shouldn’t have to call me Commander.”

Samantha blinked and gave a curt nod. “Right…what would you prefer I call you?”

“Shepard works.”

Samantha finally smiled. “Does **_anyone_** call you by your first name?”

The smile on Samantha’s face eased Shepard, so much so that she let out a laugh. “Liara tries to, but few people do. I prefer it that way, though. I’ve never cared for my first name, anyway.” She decided to leave out that that is what her subconscious calls her when she talks to herself. There wasn’t any reason for her to know that.

“Oh really? Jane, that’s your first name, right?” Samantha paused, turning her body slightly towards Shepard. Her demeanor was changing—she was more engaged and her mischievous smile was back in her eyes. Shepard nodded, and she continued. “It isn’t a bad name.”

Shepard chuckled. “No… there are definitely worse names out there. But Jane has just never really suited me.”

Samantha looked at her for a long moment. Then she turned fully towards Shepard, mirroring her posture on the couch: one leg curled in front of her, arm on the back of the couch, and her other arm still slightly leaning on the arm rest. “So what’s your middle name?”

“Lynn,” she responded automatically. She was about to ask Samantha what her middle name was when Ashley’s voice echoed in her head about opening up without being provoked to do so. She looked at Samantha for a quick moment, noticing that she seemed at ease and engaged. She was still looking at Shepard, but her focus was elsewhere, like she was thinking of what to say next. So Shepard, letting herself open up, continued. “My dad thought that it was appropriate for me to have a name of a Canadian astronaut. So he decided on Lynn, from Roberta Lynn Bondar.” Samantha blinked a few times and then met Shepard’s eyes; her surprise was obvious that Shepard was divulging personal information at will. “She was a scientist who went into space in the late 20th century or something,” she continued. “I think my dad had high hopes that I’d get into science… but that obviously didn’t pan out the way he’d hoped. And you’re not about to start calling me that, either,” she finished, pointing a playfully threatening finger at Samantha.

She chuckled and snapped her fingers as if beaten to the punch. “Well, at least he didn’t name you Roberta.”

“I am thankful every day for that.” Shepard smiled and let herself relax a little more into the back of the couch, bringing her left arm off of the back of the couch to rest on her thigh.  

“So, if you don’t mind my asking,” Samantha continued cautiously. “What’s the reason behind your first name?”

Shepard took in a slow breath and looked passed Samantha towards the window. She really hated talking about herself. And she’d hardly even talked to Ashley about her parents or early life—even though their deaths were encroaching on 20 years past, she still had emotional walls built up around the subject. No matter how many hundreds of hours of therapy she’d been forced to go through in her career, her parents were a topic she’d never willingly touched.

She looked back and met Samantha’s eyes; she was waiting patiently for a response, and was eager to hear whatever Shepard had to say. She let out a thoughtful sigh and said, “My mom… she was obsessed with a nineteenth century author, Jane Austen. So—mom wanted me to be a writer, I guess, and my dad wanted a scientist.”

Samantha smiled. Shepard couldn’t help but think that her smile was that of a girl getting to see baby pictures of her significant other. It was apparent that Samantha wanted to get to know Shepard, just as badly as Shepard wanted to get to know her. “Were they heartbroken when you joined the military and declined the life of a literary elitist?” Samantha teased.

 _I wonder if all of my crew feels this pressured when I’m asking them questions,_ she thought as she clenched her jaw, not particularly wanting to continue this line of conversation. “They had already died when I joined.” After the words left her mouth they sounded much more bitter than she had intended. Her emotion toward answering questions about herself seeped into her response. She’d accepted her parents’ death many years ago—but talking about it and herself in general was another story.

Samantha seemed to be shaken a bit by the response. “Oh,” Samantha stammered. She sat up slightly, moving her arm from the back of the couch and placed it on Shepard’s left forearm. She wasn’t tentative or cautious about it, like Shepard had been; she simply did it. She placed her hand atop her forearm and locked eyes with her. “I’m sorry, Shepard. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t be,” Shepard said, cutting her off and waving her right hand slightly. She wanted to put her hand on top of Samantha’s, but refrained. “It was a long time ago and it’s all good. But anyway, enough about me,” she said. She had given it an honest effort. She’d never told the story behind her name to anyone— _so that’s opening up, right?_ she thought. _One step at a time._ “Is that all that’s troubling you? EDI?”

Relaxing back into the corner of the couch, Samantha’s hand slipped off of Shepard’s forearm and rested on her own knee. She seemed slightly deflated by the fact that Shepard had turned the conversation back onto her, but Shepard couldn’t help it.

Samantha looked down in her lap for a space of moments and then met Shepard’s eyes again. She was still smiling. “All that I’m willing to confess to, at the very least,” she winked.

Shepard’s stomach dropped. _What else could be bothering her?_ she thought, suddenly worried. _Have my outbursts made her uncomfortable?_ She felt that it was irrational that Samantha’s worries were based at all around herself, but Shepard had to know. “You… you aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

“What?!” Samantha blinked, laughing nervously. She shook her head, sitting up straight again and placing a hand on Shepard’s calf, as her left leg was still up on the seat cushion. “No… goodness no. Why would you think that?!”

Shepard let off a soft smile and was tempted again to grab Samantha’s hand. She obviously was alright with the touching—this was the second time she’d reached out and touched Shepard during their conversation. And the day after they met, she’d been the one to touch her first, clutching her shoulder as she tried to reassure her that she was available to talk if Shepard needed it.

After a long moment of looking at Samantha, she finally said "You’re the only one on this ship that has seen me at my worst—that first night we met. But you also saw what happened in the shuttle bay yesterday, too.”

Samantha shook her head, confused. She leaned in closer, sitting forward slightly as she spoke. “Why would any of that make me afraid of you?”

“I dunno,” Shepard shrugged. “Because it reaffirms the idea that I’m a juggernaut or that you might think that I’m emotionally unstable.”

“You’re a woman. That’s a given,” she replied with a playful smirk and another wink.

“Fair point,” Shepard said, smiling and nodding her head as if she was agreeing to a scholarly point. She looked back up at Samantha who seemed elated that her humor had landed the response it had. Then, as she looked into Samantha’s humored expression:

 _She sees you as a woman. She thinks you’re weak, Jane,_ the voice sounded from the back of her mind.

Shepard clenched her jaw and looked out the window again, past Samantha. The voice was bound to pop up again, but she hadn’t expected it to come up now. _Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t automatically make people perceive me as weak._

_You said it yourself—you’re too emotional._

She let out a breath through her nose and looked back to Samantha. “Alright, so I don’t scare you. That’s good. But… from what you’ve seen… do you consider me weak?”

Samantha’s eyebrows and eyes narrowed as she tilted her head to the side. “Where are you getting any of this?”

_She’s avoiding it because it’s true._

_Shut up._ “Please… just answer the question.”

Samantha took in a deep breath. She moved her hand from Shepard’s calf muscle to her hand, wrapping her soft fingers around the top of her knuckles. “Shepard, you’ve faced horrors that people only have distant nightmares about. You’ve successfully lead teams against outrageous odds and come back with every member standing and intact. And you’re one of the most decorated marines in the alliance…”

 _She doesn’t know about Kaiden,_ the voice stabbed. _How are you going to build a relationship if you’re already lying to her by omission? Not that you have time to be in a relationship. You should be focusing on what the reapers are doing, not what your Comms. Specialist thinks about you. You’re Commander Shepard and she’s a lowly specialist. Her approval doesn’t mean anything to you._

Shepard swallowed. _Yes it does._ She hated how this voice in her head could come from nowhere and completely ruin her mood. “Medals don’t mean a damn thing in the real world,” she said sadly as she turned her hand over to let Samantha’s grip fall onto her palm. She gently moved her fingers, putting her thumb between Samantha’s fore and middle finger. She knew she shouldn’t, but she also knew that physical contact with something real would keep her thoughts in the present, and not sucked into the realm of her head.   

Samantha glanced down at their hands and let off a smile. She began caressing the base of Shepard’s palm with her thumb. “Alright,” she continued. She tugged slightly on Shepard’s hand, startling her attention and inadvertently made her meet her gaze. Her eyes were soft as she searched Shepard’s. “But no—I don’t think what I’ve seen makes me think that you are weak. I think what I’ve seen makes you human,” she said, bringing her other hand over top their intertwined ones, causing Shepard to look down again.

 _See, she doesn’t think I’m weak,_ she retorted triumphantly to the voice in her head. She let herself smile when it didn’t respond. She looked down at their hands, feeling the warmth that radiated from Samantha. It felt like the day after they’d met, standing outside Shepard’s bathroom when Samantha had put her hand on her shoulder. She had a way of pulling Shepard’s focus to her, feeling as though nothing else mattered. She looked back up to meet Samantha’s eyes and let her smile deepen. “Human, huh?”

“It’s funny,” she started, moving her left hand up to cup Shepard’s hand from the bottom. The warmth from both of her hands over hers brought every nerve to attention. There was something about the way that Samantha touched her that felt more intimate than any of the times she’d held onto Ashley’s hand. “When we first left earth, I had it in my head that you were this big scary alliance juggernaut or some unfathomable superhero,” she smiled.

Shepard brought up her right hand, extending her forefinger while the rest of the fingers curled down, interjecting a point. “A cape less superhero, as I recall.”

“Right,” she grinned. She then shifted, moving to directly face her by bending her right leg under her left, sitting in a crude crisscross. She gripped Shepard’s hand and leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping, only for Shepard to hear. “But when I met you… and held you as you cried,” she paused and gently squeezed Shepard’s hand. “It clicked that you’re just human like the rest of us. The things that the Alliance—well the whole galaxy—is expecting from you is astronomical. I think it is a good thing that the crew sees that you aren’t the unstoppable Commander Shepard. Not that I’m saying you need to get hurt on your next mission or anything,” she added hastily.

Shepard smiled at Samantha’s rushed addition. She moved her hand; the feeling of Samantha’s hands cupping her one was starting to be a bit overwhelming. She wanted to pull her in close and not let go. So she adjusted her grip, making her fingers hook Samantha’s and she poised her thumb for a thumb war. It only took Samantha a moment to realize what Shepard was doing, and she then began to avoid Shepard’s thumb’s advancement, tactically moving around and faking out, then trying to pin Shepard’s thumb.

“And,if I may be so bold,” Samantha continued as she moved her whole arm to avoid Shepard’s attempted pin. “I think your crew loves you. What we all saw in the shuttle bay, admittedly, scared us. It didn’t scare us because what you did… it scared us because it showed us that you might be suffering from—”

Shepard let out a frustrated breath, cutting Samantha off.  She stopped moving her thumb and looked Samantha in the yes. “What I did in the shuttle bay was unacceptable.”

“No,” Samantha said, using the moment to pin Shepard’s thumb down. She then pulled on Shepard’s hand, bringing her a little closer to her. “What happened was bound to happen at some point. Yes, it could have gone very wrong rather quickly, but it didn’t. But it showed the crew that you might be pushing yourself too hard. Everyone’s worried about you, not because they don’t think you can do your job, but because we care about you and we want you to be well.”

Shepard wanted to continue moving forward and into Samantha, but tugged back on her hand, jerking Samantha forward slightly as she moved her thumb out from under and then pinned hers. “I know that my crew cares about me. They’re my team and they’ve been with me through everything. But it still doesn’t excuse what happened.”

Samantha’s face contorted slightly as she tried to wriggle out from under Shepard’s thumb. Shepard noticed how cute the wrinkles around her nose were as she tried to move. Finally, she let up her grip and allowed Samantha’s thumb to be free, letting her think she’d done it herself. They made a few more jabs to try and pin the other before Samantha continued, “It isn’t just your team that has been with you since the beginning of all this…Vega, Cortez, and I all feel the same, too.”

Shepard let Samantha pin her thumb so that she could steal a look at her expression. She was pointedly focused on trying to pin Shepard’s thumb, but Shepard noticed the rosy hue in her cheeks. Once Samantha pinned Shepard’s thumb, she looked up when she noticed that she wasn’t struggling to get out of it. Samantha cleared her throat and looked down to their hands and back up, indicating that she was determined to win in a fair match. Shepard smiled and obliged, looking back down to their hands and started moving her thumb again.

They continued for a few moments, Samantha biting her lower lip while she avoided Shepard’s thumb. Eventually Shepard pinned her thumb again and Samantha shook her head, letting her hand relax and rest on their touching legs. She looked up and caught Shepard’s eye again. “We all respect you, for the things you’ve done. And I know that I feel a little safer having you around, given your track record of getting everyone out alive.

 _You’re giving her a false sense of safety, Jane,_ the voice floated back in.

Shepard bit her lip and looked away from Samantha, back out the window into the dark galaxy.

“I know I might have my doubts about my place on the Normandy, but there really is no other place that I’d rather be. With you as my Commander, I know I have the best chance of helping the galaxy, and well, surviving.”

Shepard felt herself give a faint smile, but wasn’t really listening. _Was there something I could have done to save Kaiden?_

_You could have saved him instead of Ashley… you only saved her because you were in love with her. He was the better soldier._

_Ash accompanied the Salarian squad… had I not saved her, more would have died. Kaiden was just one…and he’s gone and I know he’s forgiven me._

The voice was quiet for some time. Shepard almost thought it had retreated until it sounded again. _You think this will be any different? You’re collecting a crew again to simply send them all to their deaths._

_No—they’ll help me defeat them._

_And you’ll all die, Jane. You can’t deny that._

Shepard felt her grip tighten around Samantha’s hand. _I refuse to believe that I am sending these people to their deaths. I’ll find a way._

“Shepard?”

Shepard blinked rapidly a few times and made herself refocus. Samantha had leaned forward, trying to catch Shepard’s eye and had put her free hand over their interlocked ones. “Oh, sorry. I get lost in thought, sometimes.” _I have to stop doing that around her,_ she thought as she registered the worried look in Samantha’s eyes.

“So I’ve noticed,” Samantha smiled, her eyes still showcasing her worry. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

Shepard searched her eyes for a moment. They were gentle and inviting, like her mom’s had been. She knew that she could tell Samantha anything, but she’d had enough sharing for the day. She also didn’t want to worry Samantha with her thoughts of annihilation. She finally let herself smile and patted her top hand with her free one. “Maybe another time, Samantha.”

Samantha took the pat as a cue to let go. It wasn’t what Shepard had intended, and her hand felt instantly cold, but she didn’t cling on. That would be inappropriate. Samantha pointed to Shepard as she leaned back, getting situated in the couch again. With a smirk, she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Shepard couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“However you’d like to interpret it,” Samantha winked.  

* * *

Never in her time on the Normandy had Samantha thought that her Commanding Officer was weak. She felt her eyebrows and eyes narrow as she tilted her head to the side. _Why on earth would she think she’s weak? She’s strong enough to dent the walls of this ship,_ Samantha thought.

“Where are you getting any of this?” she asked as she watched for Shepard’s expression to change.

“Please… just answer the question,” Shepard said, her focus still looking past Samantha and seeming distant.

Samantha looked at her for a space of moments before she took in a deep breath. _She isn’t talking about physical weakness, Traynor,_ she finally realized. _She’s talking about being emotionally or mentally weak._

With that sudden realization in mind, Samantha moved her hand from Shepard’s calf muscle to Shepard’s left hand, wrapping her fingers around the top of her hand, squeezing just slightly as she tried to get Shepard to look at her and not past her. “Shepard… you’ve faced horrors that people only have distant nightmares about. You’ve successfully lead teams against outrageous odds and come back with every member standing and intact. And you’re one of the most decorated marines in the alliance.”

It was strange how bold she’d suddenly become with physical proximity to her Commanding Officer, but Shepard was the one who had broken that barrier by touching her first by grabbing both her hands earlier. _If it bothered her,_ she thought as she watched Shepard for any kind of reaction, s _he wouldn’t’ sit so closely to me, right? Or reach out and touch my chin or hands so gently?_

Shepard closed her eyes and swallowed. Samantha watched the skin grow taut around her jaw as she clenched down, obviously thinking about something. Samantha caressed her CO’s hand with her thumb and Shepard slowly then opened her eyes. “Medals don’t mean a damn thing in the real world,” she said sadly as she turned her hand over to let Samantha’s grip fall onto her palm. She gently moved her fingers, putting her thumb between Samantha’s fore and middle finger.

Samantha glanced down at their hands. _It obviously isn’t bothering her,_ she smiled to herself as she began caressing the base of Shepard’s palm with her thumb. She looked back up to meet Shepard’s gaze and noticed that she still wasn’t looking at her.

 “Alright,” she continued aloud. She tugged slightly on Shepard’s hand which caused her to look up and meet her gaze, slightly startled. Shepard’s green eyes took a moment to focus, but finally focused on Samantha’s. Samantha allowed herself to look into the green pools of her irises for only a moment before she continued. “But no—I don’t think what I’ve seen makes me think that you are weak in any sense of the word.” Samantha gently began caressing the base of Shepard’s palm again, causing her to quizzically look down. “I think what I’ve seen makes you human,” she finished, squeezing just so.

Shepard looked at their hands for a space of moments, gently moving their hands from side to side as if examining how they fit together. Samantha felt strange, freely touching Commander Shepard in such an intimate fashion. The touch was almost electric, as clichéd as that sounded. But every molecule of Samantha’s body registered that she was touching Shepard—a constant hum underneath her skin that brought every nerve to attention.

 _This is probably why everyone thinks she’s in love with them,_ she thought humoredly trying to quell the overwhelming feeling of Shepard’s touch. _Maybe everyone who sees her softer side just wants to touch her and hold her. And they want to keep touching her because of how intoxicating it feels. I know I do…_ She let herself blink a few times, trying to avoid physically shaking her head at herself.

_Stop trying to analyze everything._

Shepard finally looked up again, looking straight into Samantha’s eyes. “Human, huh?”

She brought her left hand up to cup Shepard’s hand from underneath, trying to envelope as much of Shepard’s body current as she could in her hands—the longer she held on, the less her nerves seemed to act up and the less she was aware of her headache. She was cool, calm, and collected, not a blushing blithering fool like she typically was.

“It’s funny…when we first left earth, I had it in my head that you were this big scary alliance juggernaut or some unfathomable superhero,” she smiled as she recalled tucking Shepard into bed that first night and planting a stolen kiss on her forehead. The memory was almost juvenile, but so was the memory of Shepard squeezing her hand for the first time the following day, during her first real interaction with Shepard.

Shepard brought up her free right hand, extending her forefinger to interject a point. “A cape less superhero, as I recall.” A faint smile curled at the edges of her lips.

“Right,” Samantha grinned as she noticed the smile of Shepard’s face, flattered by the fact that she had remembered the note she’d written her the first night they’d met. Samantha shifted, moving to mirror Shepard’s posture so that she was directly in front of her. _For being a woman who really hates sharing about herself, she has an amazing memory when it comes to other people,_ she thought as she gripped Shepard’s hand and leaned forward slightly.

She let her voice lower in volume—she didn’t want to be overheard. “But when I met you… and held you that first night,” she paused, moving her fingers as she gently squeezed Shepard’s hand. She could feel movement in her stomach—like silly butterflies that adolescents speak of when they’re talking to their crush. Not only was she finally able to breathe a word about the night that had been fluttering back and forth from her conscious thought, she was holding Shepard’s hand. Everything about her CO was intoxicating—her eyes were vibrant and soothing, her scent could make an Elcore swoon, but the electricity from her fingertips was like no other sensation she’d ever felt. Samantha let herself smile and looked up to meet Shepard’s eyes. “It clicked that you’re just human like the rest of us. The things that the Alliance—well the whole galaxy—is expecting from you is astronomical. I think it is a good thing that the crew sees that you aren’t the unstoppable Commander Shepard. Not that I’m saying you need to get hurt on your next mission or anything,” she added hastily.

Samantha noticed Shepard’s smile return to her lips. Then, to Samantha’s disappointment she felt Shepard begin to move her hand from her grip. Without letting her disappointment show on her face, she loosened her grip so that it made it easier for Shepard to move away. _No use in hanging on like a child,_ she thought. But then something strange happened—instead of moving her hand out of Samantha’s, Shepard moved their hands to be vertically parallel and hooked her fingers on Samantha’s. Samantha looked down quizzically at the new formation that their hands were making; Shepard had her thumb poised up and moving slightly back and forth.

 _A thumb war?_ Samantha thought, watching Shepard’s thumb moving like a joy stick. _There is really no strategy to this game aside from who can cheat the best… but if I fake to the side I might be able to legitimately pin her,_ she continued thinking as Shepard’s thumb taunted her. Finally she grinned and poised her thumb at the ready, moving to the side and then quickly back when she noticed Shepard’s thumb move towards her. _A game of tactile reflexes,_ Samantha continued thinking as she tried a different direction and faking out to the side instead of back, almost letting Shepard pin her thumb. _I prefer slow moving methodical games. But my fingers are quite dexterous,_ she suppressed a smirk as she continued dodging Shepard’s thumb as her thoughts turned to previous girlfriends’ praises of her nimble fingers.

She then felt pressure on the top of her thumb as Shepard began to pin it, but Samantha moved her whole arm in reflex to avoid being permanently pinned. “And if I may be so bold,” she started as their hands went back to a neutral starting position. She let out a quick breath and she tried to clear her head of sexual references as they were not lending to her focus for the game at hand. “I think your crew loves you. What we all saw in the shuttle bay, admittedly, scared us. It didn’t scare us because what you did… it scared us because it showed us that you might be suffering from—”

Shepard let out a frustrated breath that made Samantha stop her sentence. Shepard’s hand became rigid with tension but she put her thumb up in a neutral position and then looked up. “What I did in the shuttle bay was unacceptable.”

“No,” Samantha said, using the moment to curl her thumb over Shepard’s erect one and pin it down. She then pulled on Shepard’s hand, jerking her Commanding Officer closer to her. Shepard’s eyes widened as she was pulled forward, but it had gotten her attention. “What happened was bound to happen at some point. Yes, it could have gone very wrong rather quickly, but it didn’t. But it showed the crew that you might be pushing yourself too hard. Everyone’s worried about you, not because they don’t think you can do your job, but because they care about you and want you to be well.”

Samantha was then pulled forward by the force of Shepard pulling her thumb out from her grasp and then immediately pinning hers down. “I know that my crew cares about me. They’re my team and they’ve been with me through everything. But it still doesn’t excuse what happened.”

Samantha’s face contorted slightly as she tried to wriggle out from under Shepard’s thumb. Shepard’s tug had made them come fairly close together and the scent of her soap filled Samantha’s nostrils. She finally pulled her thumb out, after a gradual release of pressure on Shepard’s part, and then sat more upright, putting a little more distance between them. It was a good thing that she hadn’t come from a mission, because her natural body odor mixed with dirt, sweat, and blood seemed to be the concoction of scents that made the back of her knees tingle. She thought about it for a moment as she tried to figure out what to say next as she moved her thumb around cautiously. It was definitely an odd combination of smells to be attracted to. _I blame pheromones,_ she thought finally. _Because there is no way that those things together should be an enticing smell._

She smiled to herself and then quickly moved her thumb to avoid another attacked from Shepard. “It isn’t just your team that has been with you since the beginning of all this,” she paused, feeling heat rise in her checks. “Vega, Cortez, and I all feel the same, too,” she added quickly as heat rose in her cheeks.

 _No need to single myself out,_ she thought as she darted from side to side and then noticed a lack of movement from Shepard and went in for a successful pin. She smiled and then noticed no resistance from Shepard and looked up. Her eyes met a soft expression from Shepard. Her eyes were searching Samantha’s face. It was a new look that she had yet to see from Shepard. She felt the heat deepen in her cheeks and she then cleared her throat and looked back down to their hands and then back up to Shepard, locking eyes with her and raising an eyebrow. She was trying to convey to start again since it was apparent that Shepard had let her win that round. Shepard released a hearty smile and then began to waggle her thumb again.

They continued for a few moments, Samantha biting her lower lip while she attempted to dodge Shepard’s thumb onslaught. She forced herself to not focus on how dexterous her CO was, as it was bound to make her tell tale blush more prevalent. Instead she began trying to tactically move her thumb about but eventually Shepard pinned her thumb again. Samantha shook her head, graciously admitting defeat to the less than methodical game. She relaxed her hand without letting go of Shepard’s and let their hands rest on their touching legs. She looked at their intertwined hands for a moment and didn’t know why she wasn’t letting go. It was comforting to hold her hand, even in a juvenile sort of way of a thumb war.

She looked up and caught Shepard’s eye again. “We all respect you, for the things you’ve done. And I know that I feel a little safer having you around, given your track record of getting everyone out alive.”

Shepard bit her lip and looked out the window past Samantha, but remained quiet.

“I know I might have my doubts about my place on the Normandy, but there really is no other place that I’d rather be,” Samantha offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “With you as my Commander, I know I have the best chance of helping the galaxy, and well, surviving.”

Shepard slowly blinked and nodded her head, but Samantha noticed the skin around her jaw grow taut again. Shepard’s focus shifted, her pupils contracting as she focused on something through the window.

Samantha looked over her shoulder to see if there might be something outside the window that was holding Shepard’s attention. But there turned out to be nothing…just slowly passing stars in the distance as the Normandy cruised to the Pranas System.

Samantha brought her gaze back to Shepard and her expression was unchanged. It was like someone had pressed an off switch or something. She’d seen Shepard act like this a few times before, and she could never quite understand what triggered it. _Did I say something wrong?_ she thought as she looked into Shepard’s eyes that still didn’t register her. There was a slight crease in Shepard’s brow and her eyes were moving just slightly—as though she was examining something quickly.

Samantha had the sudden urge to run her hand along Shepard’s cheek, but refrained. _She’s always so worried,_ she thought. She moved her free hand overtop their hands and leaned closer to her, chancing Shepard’s alluring aroma to attempt to regain her attention. “Shepard?”

Shepard blinked rapidly a few times and then made eye contact with Samantha. “Oh, sorry. I get lost in thought sometimes.” 

“So I’ve noticed,” Samantha smiled faintly. _I used to do that a lot, right after the collector attack on Horizon. I wonder if it is the same for Shepard…_ “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

Shepard searched Samantha’s face for a moment, a faint smiled creeping back onto her expression. She finally smiled, showing teeth, and patted Samantha’s hand with her free one. “Maybe another time, Samantha.”

Samantha nodded and loosened her grip from Shepard’s hand. It seemed to be a pretty obvious clue that she needed to let go of her. Shepard’s grip didn’t loosen, but it didn’t tighten either, she simply let Samantha slide her hand out from hers. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said with a smirk in attempt to hide her confusion about Shepard’s hand grips as she leaned back into the couch arm, pointing at Shepard like a teacher would to a student.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Shepard asked with a devious smile.

“However you’d like to interpret it,” Samantha winked. 

Without touching Shepard, Samantha suddenly felt cold—no more heat radiating from Shepard’s hands over hers, no electrical current pulsating through her person. It was strange. She’d never had that sensation with anyone else—not even Natalie who she’d had the longest relationship with. The whole interaction with Shepard had been odd. It made Samantha feel silly—as though she was a school girl with her first partner. The oddest thing was the sheer amount of physical contact. It was harmless, innocent hand holding… but did it mean more than that to Shepard?

 _What happened to simply trying to be friends, Traynor?_ she thought. _You started out by basically telling her that you think she’s pretty. And now you’re pouting because you aren’t touching her anymore._ She bit the inside of her lip and she watched Shepard’s vision go into the distance again. She let herself take a long look at Shepard’s face.

There were long faint scars along her cheek bones and jaw, but barely visible. Had the Commander put on a layer of foundation, they’d completely disappear. There were smaller scars intermingled with the freckles that speckled her cheeks, a scar on her left eyebrow and a thin one that went over both her top and bottom lip on the right side. But the scars didn’t deface her or make her unattractive. Samantha could feel her expression soften as she examined Shepard’s facial features. The scars seemed like they belonged there, as if Shepard would look incomplete without them.

There were a few small and thin scars that were visible on her neck, down to her collar bone where she knew lead to more clusters on her shoulders, arms, and stomach. _I wonder if I’d feel the same feeling if it was our bodies pressed together,_ she thought as she glanced back down at Shepard’s hand from letting her gaze glance over Shepard’s stomach as she recalled how many times Shepard had managed to pin her in their thumb war.

She was suddenly warm again, and she could feel it in her face as she began to blush. _Bollocks!_ she thought, slightly panicked that Shepard would notice. _Friends, Traynor. You’re trying to be her friend and here you are contemplating naked bodies pressed together. Oi._

She abruptly stood. “Well, I should probably get back to it,” she said as she wiped her palms on the front of her cargo pants.

“What, already?” Shepard’s hand was suddenly around Samantha wrist; it was a loose grip, not tight, but it stopped Samantha from moving forward as she looked down.

The electrical feeling radiated through her arm, making her almost uncomfortably hot. _Shiiit,_ she thought as she forced herself to swallow. “Um, w-was there something else that you wanted to talk to me about?” she managed to say.

Shepard’s grip tightened slightly as her thumb began to move, caressing Samantha’s forearm. She looked down, almost insecure like, which caught Samantha off guard. “Well, no… not really,” she admitted. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it and let out a breath. “But… Well… I just… I like talking with you,” she finally managed to get out.

 _Of course you do,_ she thought to herself as a smile spread over her lips again. _I’m over here sweating krogan quads trying to keep my composure and you’re just holding onto me like it’s a casual friendly thing—not something that has a tendency to induce spontaneous mental images of us naked together._

_Traynor. Friends. Friend-zone her and you’ll be fine._

**You** _try friend-zoning her._

_We are. And we’re failing miserably._

_Bollocks._

As Shepard was still loosely holding onto her left arm, Samantha brought up her right arm and flared her Omni-tool to check the time. It had barely been fifteen minutes, maybe twenty since they came down to the observatory deck. She could spare a few more minutes and still finish all of her data feeds in time for the summit.

She powered the omni-tool down and met Shepard’s insecure eyes. It almost reminded Samantha of a puppy trying to guilt trip you into staying and not going to work. But this puppy was a full grown, very attractive woman who, unbeknownst to her, knew how to pull at Samantha’s libido.

 _Maybe there is something else she wants to talk about that eating her up. I_ **did** _say that I was available to speak whenever she needed. I should keep that promise… as a friend._

_That’s right, Friend-zone, Traynor. Put her in a gender neutral box that only needs your friendship._

_Oh shut it._

“Alright, I’ll stay for a bit longer,” she finally said, bending back down to sit on the couch again. “But I really do need to get back to the data feeds in a while. The likelihood of data feed hate mail cluttering your inbox triples every minute I’m here,” she added with a playful wink.

Shepard’s eyes brighten as Samantha got comfortable on the couch again, leaning into the back of the couch and bringing her leg up over her knee.

“Fair enough,” Shepard said as she let go of Samantha’s arm.

The spot on her arm that Shepard had released was suddenly cold again. The rest of her body was beginning to cool down too, but she was dead sure that she was still flushed in her cheeks. _Maybe I should invest in foundation… that might hide it,_ she thought as she took in a deep breath and looked to Shepard.

“So… er…” Samantha began, trying to think of something to talk about other than awkwardly sitting and looking at her. “How was seeing Lieutenant Commander Williams?

Shepard blinked, swallowing suddenly and nodding her head. “It was… good. She’s doing much better. I’m hoping to get her to join us on the Normandy when she’s fit for duty.”

“Oh,” Samantha trailed off. She forced herself to smile so that her moment of disappointment didn’t show on her features. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Liara about how smitten Shepard had been with the Lieutenant Commander and how Ashley being brought up last night after the EDI incident made Samantha’s stomach feel sick with jealousy. _Has she finally convinced her to hop the rainbow fence?_ Samantha worried, knowing that if Shepard had, she no longer stood any chance.

 _Friend-zone friend-zone friend-zone,_ she mentally chanted to herself. “Do you think she’ll come along?” she asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

Shepard shrugged and then brought both her hands together in her lap.  “I’m not sure. She’s been offered to be made a spectre. If she accepts, the council might not want two spectres traveling together.”

“I see…” Samantha offered as she looked down, trying not to bring her hands together so that she didn’t fall into fidgeting with her fingers again.

_Am I a terrible person for hoping the Council says no?_

_Damnit._

“But it was good to see her regardless,” Shepard said as her smile returned to her lips and eyes. “We both got the closure we needed.”

Samantha blinked and looked up to Shepard and met her eyes. “Closure?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Shepard laughed. “Yeah. She got her answers about me and Cerberus, and me… well…” She chuckled once more and then smiled, keeping eye contact with Samantha’s. “Let’s just say I got what I needed to move on.”

Samantha pursed her lips and raised her eyebrow slightly higher. “You know, saying it like that just makes me more curious what you really mean,” she teased.

Shepard let herself laugh again, her shoulders slightly jostling up and down. “You can ask any of my original crew… I’ve always been hopelessly in love with Ash.”

Relaxing into the back of the couch, Samantha brought up her arms and crossed them loosely over her stomach and nodded, waiting for Shepard to continue.

This time it was Shepard’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

 _Shit—I’m not supposed to know that,_ she thought as heat rushed back into her cheeks. _Liara told me after the shuttle bay incident._ “I, um, I had an idea,” she offered with a shrug as she broke eye contact with Shepard and looked at the back of the couch for a moment. Not wanting to incriminate Liara, she continued. “The way you reacted when we extracted you from Mars. I’ve never seen someone so adamant about top speeds before. You hardly left the med bay until we were docked in the Citadel.” _That’s a believable answer, right? Right?_

Shepard looked at her for a long moment before she nodded in acceptance to Samantha’s fabrication as their eyes met again.

“So… did she tell you to move on or something?”

Shepard nodded. “We talked it out and came to the conclusion together. But thankfully we’re still friends,” she smiled, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “I can handle not being with her…Hell I am already starting to move on. But I don’t think I could handle it if she was out of my life completely.”

_Move on? Can we touch on that more? Please?_

_Friend-zone, Traynor! Friend-zone friend-zone friend-zone._

_But… who could she be moving on to?_

_Friend-zone!_

_You’re no fun._

“That’s understandable,” she said, trying to keep her self-satisfied smirk to herself. “You’ve been through a lot together.”

Shepard eyed Samantha for a moment, slightly turning her head to the right as her eyes narrowed. She brought her left hand up to her chin. “So…you’re commanding officer being gay… that doesn’t weird you out, does it?”

“Well,” Samantha started before she could help herself. “It **_is_** a heathenous lifestyle. I just don’t think I can handle it. Spacing myself will be the only option,” she said as she over exaggeratedly put the back of her hand to her forehead, causing Shepard to laugh.

“Oh how 20th century of you, Samantha.”

Samantha smiled as she brought her hand back down to her lap, suppressing her laughter. “Of course it doesn’t bother me.”

“Because…?”

“My dear Shepard,” Samantha teased, putting her hand to her chest in mock surprise as she looked up through her eyelashes at Shepard. “You aren’t fishing for something, are you?” She fought the urge to bite her lip as she looked at Shepard.

_Friend-zone!_

_But flirting is fun._

_Traynor…_

_Shut it._

Shepard grinned, pointing to herself with her forefinger. “Who, me? Never.”

Samantha finally let herself laugh, dropping her sarcastic act. Shepard smiled as her laughter tapered off. She hated to admit it, but she felt a slight heat to her cheeks again. _She’s only asking because she already knows,_ she thought, exhaling out the last of her laughter. “It doesn’t weird me out because I am, too.”

Shepard smirked. “Are…? Are what?”

“What, do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Oh please do,” Shepard started, suddenly looking innocent as she pointed to herself again. “Remember—not the brightest kid in the bunch. Parents had hopes of a highly regarded writer or a scientist. Instead they got a biotic military hard head. So yes… spell it out for me… with small words.”

Samantha opened her mouth to respond but laugher caught in her throat again. She shook her head as she quietly began to laugh. Shepard’s eyes never left her own and she finally closed her eyes and angled her head down in an attempt to quell any blushing that she knew was there. Finally, after a moment, she regained her composure and met Shepard’s eyes again. “I too, am a lover of the ladies.”

“See, was that so hard?” Shepard said as her smirk turned into a genuine smile.

 _Oh god you have no idea, Shepard_ ,she thought as a small nervous laugh escaped her throat. “No, I suppose not.”

Shepard relaxed a little into the couch, obviously enjoying the rise she’d gotten out of Samantha. “Well—the woman who’s waiting for you is lucky to have you, Samantha.”

“What? Waiting for me?” Samantha asked after blinking hard. “Oh—no, I’m very much single.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Really?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” Samantha asked.

The Commander was suddenly lost for words, looking at Samantha as her mouth hung open just so. Finally she shrugged and put her arm across the back of the couch. “You have a trained tongue for wit,” Shepard started, but stopped. “That came out wrong.”

Samantha sputtered and then chuckled, letting her head rest on the back of the couch. “Aaand the lesbian jokes begin.”

She almost didn’t believe it, but at that moment, Shepard’s cheeks reddened.

 _The Commander blushes? Oh this will be good. Payback is_ **so** _my forte._

“What I meant,” Shepard stammered, trying to save herself. “Is that you’ve got the wit of someone who has been in a long term relationship.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… um… my parents were together for twenty some years and they shot witty remarks at each other almost constantly. I’ve always seen wit and sarcasm as proof that someone has been with someone for a long period of time. Or someone who was raised with it, like in my case.”

Samantha smiled, showing the fullness of her teeth. Shepard had divulged two things now without provocation or prodding in the same sentence. It was shocking—and the fact that she had admitted to never having been in a long term relationship without meaning to.

_Maybe she is getting more comfortable with me. But why, then, doesn’t she open up to the rest of her crew?_

_You’re doing it again._

_Doing what?_

_Analyzing. Don’t ruin it._

_Right._

“I’ve had my share of relationships,” Samantha offered, bringing her hands together in her lap. “But nothing ever serious enough to warrant my sense of humor. That just comes with the package. It probably has a lot to do with being English and all.”

“But I thought you grew up in a colony in the terminus systems?”

Samantha was slightly shocked that Shepard remembered she was a colony kid. _She does remember an awful lot, doesn’t she._ “I did. But my parents were from Earth and grew up in Britain. And going to university at Oxford really solidified my English quick witted tongue,” she added, further attempting to tease Shepard.

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Shepard said, frowning playfully.

“Oh hardly,” Samantha said, rolling her head on the back of the couch to look at Shepard again. She was amazed at how relaxed she’d suddenly become. With their sexual orientation out in the open, it seemed like some kind of tension was lifted. “ ** _You_** were the one who followed finding out my sexual orientation with a comment about my tongue. You’ve dug that hole all on your own and I plan to exploit it until you’ve clamored out of it.”

Shepard’s adorable frown deepened, as did the color in her cheeks. “And how long will it take for me to **_clamor_** out of this hole?”

The color deepening in her cheeks wasn’t lost on Samantha. She smirked and said, “Until it stops making you blush.”

“What?! I’m not blushing!” she declared, hooking her finger on her collar and pulling it away from her body and cleared her throat. “It’s… it’s just warm in here is all.”

 _Oh, I am going to relish this until it becomes sickeningly annoying,_ she thought. “Mhmmm. And my mum is the queen of England.”

Shepard smiled. “For all I know, she could be. I haven’t paid much attention to British politics as of late. Your family could be the exiled relatives of Prince Charles love affair back in the early 20th century. You never know!”

Samantha let herself smile again. _Why can’t talking to her always be this easy? She’s pretty damn funny herself._ She forced herself to sit up. She really needed to get back to the data feeds, but sitting comfortably while joking around with Commander Shepard was making it hard for her motivation to kick in. But she wasn’t quite ready to leave. “I’ve never met someone who can match me,” Samantha said as she put her hands on her knees preparing to stand. “You’re going to keep me on my toes, you are.”

“Or the tip of your tongue?” Shepard grinned, and then flinched as if she was waiting to be hit as a surprised look spread across Samantha’s face. “Okay, okay… that was bad. I’m sorry.”

Samantha let herself laugh again and shook her head. “Just keep digging, Shepard. You’re bound to find a new type of mineral deposit any second now,” she said as she patted Shepard on her knee.

It was surprising to her how okay Shepard was with physical contact. Maybe Steven wasn’t going to be the only other human being on the ship that she would touch.

 _Hugging Shepard would probably push me over the edge though,_ she thought as she considered the way Shepard’s unique cologne threatened to bring her to her knees on a regular basis, or the fact that contact with her skin electrified every nerve ending.

_Traynor. Friend-zone… you’re doing it wrong._

* * *

Samantha’s expression changed to looking slightly surprised. “I did. But my parents were from Earth and grew up in Britain. And going to university at Oxford really solidified my English quick witted tongue,” she teased.

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Shepard said, frowning playfully.

“Oh hardly,” Samantha said, rolling her head on the back of the couch to look at Shepard again. “You were the one who followed finding out my sexual orientation with a comment about my tongue. You’ve dug that hole all on your own and I plan to exploit it until you’ve clamored out of it.”

Shepard allowed her frown to playfully deepen as she felt her cheeks grow hot. _Why is it so warm in here all of a sudden?_ she thought. “And how long will it take for me to clamor out of this hole?” she asked, continuing her playful attitude.

Samantha’s lips curled up in a devilish smirk. “Until it stops making you blush.”

“What?! I’m not blushing!” Shepard deflected as she hooked her finger on her collar and pulled it away from her body. She cleared her throat and attempted to keep confident eye contact with Samantha in an attempt to cover up her blushing. “It’s… it’s just warm in here is all.”

“Mhmmm. And my mum’s the queen of England.”

Shepard smiled. “For all I know, she could be. I haven’t paid much attention to British politics as of late. Your family could be the exiled relatives of Prince Charels love affair back in the early 21st century. You never know!”

Samantha smiled again. “I’ve never met someone who can match me,” Samantha said as she put her hands on her knees, sitting more upright. “You’re going to keep me on my toes, you are.”

“Or the tip of your tongue?” Shepard grinned. Samantha’s reaction had been worth it though, causing Shepard to recoil for playful fear of being smacked in the arm or something. Samantha’s cheeks reddened and her mouth hung opened as her eyes widened slightly. _Haha! Two can play at this blushing game,_ she thought as she watched Samantha’s face continue to redden. _I’ve been making you blush since we met._ “Okay, okay… that was bad. I’m sorry.”

Samantha laughed nervously and shook her head. “Just keep digging, Shepard. You’re bound to find a new type of mineral deposit any second now,” she said as she patted Shepard on her knee.

Shepard looked down to Samantha’s hand on her knee and suppressed a smile. She was glad to be freely speaking with Samantha and have the physical contact that she’d had with Ashley. And Samantha seemed much more relaxed now that their respective orientations were out in the open. She was still blushing about the same amount, but her sarcasm wasn’t held back and allowed her to speak without worrying about offending anyone—or at least that is how it seemed. She was much more at ease, and her jokes were free flowing.

“Oh, speaking of a matching you—you were in the middle of telling me about chess before the whole…Vega shuttle bay incident,” Shepard said. She noticed that Samantha was moving to start getting ready to go. _Not just yet. Just a few more minutes._

Samantha glanced at her from the side, thinking. And then her eyes widened. “I was, wasn’t I!” she said excitedly. “We’ll have to play at some point. I have a set made from rose quartz and hematite back home. I like the feel of something solid in my hands.”

 _Something solid in your hand?_ Shepard thought, picking up on what sounded like an innuendo. “Well, now that I know your weakness, we may have to try a game on a holo, maybe give me the upper hand for a rookie player.”

Samantha let out a quick chuckle. “Regardless what we play, it’d be more fun than playing EDI. EDI doesn’t **_sweat_**.”

Shepard swallowed. The way that Samantha had said sweat, coupled with the previous possible innuendo, made her think of other things that caused sweating. And not running around groundside on missions kind of sweating. Attempting to keep her composure, she asked “You sweat playing chess?”

“Depends on how much fun we’re having,” she said, and then quickly cleared her throat.  

Samantha’s voice had been sultry for just a moment, until she realized how she sounded and cleared her throat. In another situation, Shepard would have leaned in and asked “or really” and kissed her, letting one thing lead to another. As much as she wanted to do that now she refrained; she had just started to move on from Ashley. Just because there was now a very available, very attractive lesbian serving on her ship didn’t mean she needed to jump into anything. And there were regulations against it, after all.

Before Shepard could think of something to say to keep their conversation going, Samantha’s omni-tool flared on as she checked the time. “Well,” she started, still sounding slightly nervous. “I should really get back to it. Data feeds and all.”

“Alright, alright,” Shepard said as she put her hands on her knees to stand. “I won’t hold you hostage any longer.”

Samantha smiled. “You’re hardly holding me hostage, Shepard. This was a lot of fun.”

Her smile was full, bright, and the white of her teeth contrasted beautifully with her skin. They both stood from the low sitting couches, Shepard’s joints screaming slightly in protest. Sitting in the position she’d been sitting in for that long wasn’t good for her stiff, overworked muscles and joints. But it had been worth it to see Samantha smiling again—not to mention blush from being flustered.

They slowly walked towards the door together. Shepard still had the urge to pull the Comms Specialist into a kiss, or pull her close to her and inhale the tea scent (and maybe attempt to figure out which tea she smelled like). But instead, she settled for placing her hand on her shoulder, stopping her for a moment longer. “Thanks, by the way. I know I can be hard to talk to sometimes… but I do enjoy talking with you.”

“Anytime, Shepard,” she said as her face lit up with a smile as she looked from Shepard’s hand to her eyes. “Like I’ve said before, I’m always available to talk. And this was nice… It’s nice to get to know a little bit more about the famous Commander Shepard.” She winked.  

“Yeah—I’ve been told I am a master of deflection,” she said as she brought her hand from Samantha’s shoulder to her own neck and rubbed nervously.

Samantha let out a singular laugh. “If it were a sport, you’d hold all of the gold medals for it.”

Shepard chuckled. “That’d be an interesting sport to watch.”

“Oh it very much is,” she said, loosely crossing her arms over her stomach and locking eyes with Shepard, a smile still radiating through her eyes. Hey held each other’s gaze for a moment before she moved her arms away from her stomach and turned towards the door again. “When the war summit is over and you’ve got some downtime, I’ll challenge you to that game of chess.”

“So long as you promise to go easy on me,” Shepard said, trying to gain the rookie card. “I’ve never played.”

“That takes all the fun out of it!” Samantha said as the doors slid open. “I’ll see you around, Shepard. I’m sure I’ll have to filter out all the data feed hate mail from your inbox for keeping me for so long.”

Shepard smiled and brought a hand up and waved her good bye. Samantha did the same and turned to head towards the elevator.

 _I could follow her into the elevator… but that would probably end in me making a fool of myself,_ she thought as she watched Samantha’s hips sway as she walked away. She stood in the doorway of the observatory until Samantha’s frame disappeared into the elevator.

She was at a loss for what to do with the few hours that were left of traveling time. She decided she should probably triple check her emails and then shower in an attempt to look put together for the summit. She had to pull out her dress blues and make sure that they were pressed and presentable.

She took in a deep breath and slowly started walking forward. _Maybe with Samantha here and the memorial wall put in place, I’ll have all the motivation I need to keep this mission alive and deal with idiotic politicians._

_We can win this._

_We have to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think in comments (or private messages here or on tumblr). I always love hearing what you have to say!


	9. Oh Dear Sweet Baby Hanar Tits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for some of the blatant mistakes in this so far. I’ve re-read several of the chapters after posting it and apparently my computer doesn’t always properly save my edited versions [“Stoopid Machine,” Saren Korgan Mercenary from ME 1]. I’ve gone through and fixed some of the little mistakes. Please let me know if I’m still missing a few.

It wasn’t often that Shepard wished she were a krogan, but right now she felt that a solid head-butt to the face was what the Dalatrass needed. Shepard was more furious at the Dalatrass’ actions of secrecy and blatant unhelpfulness than she had been at the asari Councilor, who had simply refused to attend the summit. Shepard was beginning to understand her decision.

Shepard grabbed the collar of her dress blues and pulled until the button fastens on the breast of the shirt came undone with an unsettling sound of ripping cloth. This entire mission was beginning to test the patience that she was usually so good at keeping. First it had been with the Citadel Council, then specifically the asari Councilor, and now the salarian Dalatrass and Wrex. Shepard pulled her uniform from the shoulders up and over her head and threw it towards her bed as the doors to her quarters slid shut behind her. She made a hard right to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and immediately began to splash cold water on her face.

 _Calm down, Shep,_ she thought as she gripped either side of the sink and watched the water drip from her face. She counted each droplet’s _plink_ as it made contact with the cold medal sink, trying to calm herself—an alternative to her usual counting to ten technique.

She felt so drastically different than she had six and a half hours ago while speaking with Samantha in the observatory room. She’d been relaxed, in good humor, and enjoying herself. But politics had a way of ruining the small moments of joy, especially when it was politics between turians, salarians, and krogans.

The summit hadn’t been terrible—there was **_some_** progress that had come of it. Shepard had handled her temper and had been, she thought, fairly diplomatic through the entire summit. The bickering between the three races had obviously tested her patience, but the Dalatrass had pushed her over the edge after her blatant attempt to hide the truth from the krogans. And being called a bully as they left the conference room had been the topper that had almost pushed her over the edge. She’d wanted to storm back in and tell the Dalatrass that their petty race wars were going to get every species in the galaxy killed—that because she refused to cooperate, not only was she dooming the krogans, but every race out there, especially the salarians as their unhelpfulness was bound to leave them without allies. She had wanted to grab her by the collar and shake her until she understood the severity of the galactic state. But she’d wanted to do the same to Wrex, too.

Even though she and Wrex had a decent history and considered him a friend, she was furious that he decided to pursue the genophage now. It was something she thought that the krogans undoubtedly deserved, but now was not the time for delicate scientific procedures. Now was the time for action, not political deals; Wrex wouldn’t let it go. It was genophage or nothing—a tall order for such a short span of time. But no deal meant no Krogan help. No Krogan help meant no Turian help. No Turian help meant Earth was doomed. So if curing a genophage that has lasted for over a thousand years would get everyone’s cooperation, it had to be done—as impossible as it sounded. And if it was the only hope for saving Earth, then Shepard was going to make damn sure that it happened no matter what.

The cure itself wasn’t something that Shepard knew anything about guaranteeing or making happen. All she knew was that she was to extract several fertile female krogans from the STG base on Sur’Kesh and they’d formulate a plan from there. She wasn’t a scientist, much to her father’s wishes, and there wasn’t a scientist serving on her ship. If she knew where Mordin Solus was, he might have been able to help, considering his previous work with the genophage.

A slight pain radiated from her jaw from how tightly she clenched her teeth. She opened her mouth, releasing the tension and then splashed her face with water again. The cold water to her face was a decent shock to the system, holding her attention rather than letting her mind fester. It also gave a relieving coolness to her sore hands; there was only so much that medigel and her cybernetics could heal over time, and this last week had been pretty rough on her hands. In combination of pounding the wall outside her quarters, fighting James, punching the shuttle bay floor and the engineering deck floor a few times, her hands were fairly beaten up. On the outside they looked fine—no bruising or scabs to be seen. But the joints were stiff and achy.

Another splash to her face finally began to calm her down as the water dribbled down her neck and into her bra, causing a full body shiver. The cold water jolted her attention, forcing her to focus on the present and what needed to happen next.

She’d already spoken with Joker and they were in route to Sur’Kesh. They were set to depart in the Kodiak in less than a half hour and she had come up to her quarters to change into her mission attire and finalize who she was going to take with her. She glanced up at the mirror above the sink as she took in a deep breath and then nodded to herself. It was time to get back to work and do what she did best: groundside missions.

She walked out of the bathroom as she striped off her bra and began unbuttoning her formal pants. She tossed her bra over to where she’d thrown her shirt and then proceeded to do the same with her shoes and pants. It was one perk to having her own quarters with a locking door—she didn’t have to worry about prying eyes as she changed and she could stay topless for as long as she pleased. It was a strange thing to take solace in, considering a military life had lessened how shy she had been about dressing and changing in front of others. It didn’t matter that she was the first human Spectre, or a Commanding Officer in the Alliance Navy, or a top ranking N7 member—changing by oneself was always a good way for her to clear her head. It let her sort out the upcoming mission while she changed without having to worry about locker room antics.

She reached into her drawers for her battle undergarments: tight fitting spandex type pants and a moderately tight tank top—enough to cover her person and to keep the sensitive parts from chaffing, but not enough to make her overheat. As she began dressing she started going through who she needed to take with her.

Wrex had already made it clear that he was going to go with, but she had a feeling that he wouldn’t be a welcomed member and would need to have a full team with her just in case. She might yet be surprised, though; maybe the Dalatrass would allow Wrex past the docking bay. If it came to that, she’d simply leave one of the crew with the shuttle so things didn’t get crowded, or so the salarians didn’t think that Shepard was looking to storm the base.

She’d already promised EDI that she could come along to test out the mechanics of her new platform. Shepard wasn’t expecting a fire fight—so it’d be a safe environment to test out her off ship capabilities. But who else should she take?

She slipped both of her legs through her tight leggings and then dug around for a sports bra as she considered her options. _I could bring Garrus, like I always do. He’d be a good choice since we’re doing this so that the krogans help the turians. But it almost seems like a waste of his time,_ Shepard thought as she finally found the black sports bra she was looking for and slid it over her shoulders. _It is a simple extraction mission._

 _But then again… when is anything ever simple?_ She shook her head. She had no reason to think that they’d encounter problems at the STG base. If they did, the base would be equipped to handle it. 

 _Maybe I should take Liara,_ she thought, moving to grab her tank top. _I haven’t taken her on a mission since Menae. And I haven’t been exactly hospitable to her…_ her thoughts trailed off, thinking of how cold she’d been to Liara during their last few encounters. She still hadn’t apologized for blowing up at her after they left the Citadel, or pushing her off after the shuttle bay incident.

“EDI—I need you to meet me in the shuttle bay in five minutes,” Shepard said aloud, straightening the bottom of her tank top.

“Of course, Commander.”

“Could you patch me through to Liara?” she asked, still getting used to being able to speak to EDI from anywhere in the ship or in person.

“Done.”

“Liara—gear up. I need you in the shuttle bay in five. We leave in twenty.”

The intercom was quiet for a moment. For a second Shepard thought that the com hadn’t actually connected. Then Liara finally responded. “You want me to accompany you to Sur’Kesh, Commander?”

“Yeah,” Shepard said, stretching out her hands as she walked towards the door of her quarters to board the elevator. Her armor was in the shuttle bay. “You’re better at the diplomacy stuff. I have a feeling that we’ll need your tact to compensate for Wrex’s lack thereof.”

“Of course. I’ll be right down,” Liara said—a happy tone in her voice.

Shepard nodded to herself as she summoned the elevator—she’d never been in a situation where she felt like she needed to apologize for her actions, but she wanted to clear the air with Liara. They had such a muddled past and she didn’t want to chance hurting their scarce friendship. She needed all the friends she had for this war.

The doors opened after a few moments and Shepard stepped in, pressing 5. As the doors closed, she relaxed in a leaning posture in the far corner of the small elevator, her arms loosely folded over her stomach. _Hopefully this mission will bring us closer to getting back to fighting the reapers,_ she thought as her head leaned back and she closed her eyes.

She knew that she and James had settled things and he was finally falling in line with her orders, but she couldn’t help but think that he was right: why were they—some of the most talented soldiers in the galaxy—running around, gathering allies and solving other people’s problems? Shepard wanted to be on Earth, solving the problems there. Even though she grew up on Mindoir and had never actually stepped on Earth’s soil until she went to basic training, it was still her people’s home planet and it was where she’d been stationed out of for the last fourteen years.

 _I hope we accomplish this genophage bullshit in time for there to still be an Earth left to save,_ she thought darkly as the elevator began to slow down.

The doors opened on deck three, revealing a smiling Liara waiting for the elevator. She had her pistol holstered on her hip and she walked into the elevator with a bounce to her step. She had her hands clasped in front of her and then turned to face the closing doors.

Shepard smirked, staying in her leaning position. “You look happy.”

Liara looked at her over her shoulder. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been on a mission. I’m excited to get off of the ship for a bit.”

Shepard nodded as the doors closed, locking the two of them alone. “Listen, about that,” she started, pushing off of the wall to stand straight. “It isn’t personal. You know that, right?”

Liara turned her body towards Shepard. “What isn’t personal?”

“Not taking you on missions,” Shepard started, keeping her hands crossed over her stomach. “I try to take the best person for the job, but I know what you’re doing with your resources as the Shadow Broker is also highly valuable.”

Liara looked at her for a moment as the elevator finally began to move downward, her smile faltering. “So you think I’m more useful shipside?”

Shepard groaned, bringing a hand up to rub the back of her neck. “That’s not what I meant… dammit.”

Liara tilted her head to the side and smiled. She then took a half step closer to Shepard and put her hand on her arm. “What is it, Jane? You know you can just tell me.”

Shepard cringed at her first name, only glowering slightly at Liara. _One of these days she’ll realize how much I hate that,_ she thought. _Or I could probably just ask her to not use my first name._ Then her eyes looked down at Liara’s hand. She also felt slightly awkward with how Liara always tried to touch her.  Shepard shook off the feeling, not bothering to move Liara’s hand or to mention anything about her first name hatred.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m punishing you or mad at you from the instances that have happened recently.” She felt heat in her neck, probably visible to Liara and a telltale sign that she was uncomfortable. “I guess I just want to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you this past week. It’s been a rough one.”

Liara’s smile returned to her face and she squeezed Shepard’s forearm gently. “Apology accepted,” she nodded and let go. “And I know you take Garrus and whomever else because they balance out the skills of your team and are beneficial to the specific mission parameters. It isn’t very often that two biotic masters are needed on the same mission. It’d be unfair fight.”

Shepard snorted at Liara’s attempted humor. “Damn right it would. The reapers wouldn’t stand a chance in close range.” She returned Liara’s smile and then thought for a moment. _I remember when it was Jack, Garrus, and I; we were basically unstoppable. Maybe I_ **should** _take Liara on more missions._

Before she had the chance to continue thinking of the tactical advantages of Liara’s biotics paired with her own, the elevator doors opened to the shuttle bay. Liara stepped out first and Shepard followed, heading straight for the lockers to begin suiting up. Over her shoulder she noticed that EDI was standing next to the calibrations table, examining a pistol.

Before she reached the locker she stopped, and then turned towards EDI. “Do you know how to use that?” she asked tentatively.

EDI’s mechanical head turned toward Shepard as she blinked. “I’ve analyzed over a thousand simulations on weapon handling, Commander Shepard. I understand the concept and feel confident in my new body’s capabilities.”

Shepard opened her mouth and then closed it, crossing one arm over her stomach and resting her other arm in her hand while she brought her hand to her mouth. She tapped her cheek with her finger as she looked for the words to continue. “ ** _Feel_** confident? You typically **_do_** or **_don’t_** _,_ EDI.”

EDI’s mechanical smile was odd at first, but it quickly clicked for Shepard that it was what she’d imagined the AI doing when she spoke to her many times before her acquisition of a physical platform. “Feel is something I’ve noticed the crew says. It is a human term.”

“I know that,” Shepard started. “Are… are you attempting to be more human?”

“I am attempting to fit in, Commander,” EDI responded, putting the pistol down. She had the chamber open, there was no thermal clip, and the safety was on. Shepard suddenly felt better about the AI’s gun training. “I have noticed the crew becomes easily confused by my typical vernacular and I am trying to compensate by adopting some of the idioms that are frequently used aboard the Normandy.”

Shepard nodded. “Good thinking, EDI.” She smiled at the mech and then returned to her trajectory towards the lockers to begin suiting up in her battle armor. It made sense how quickly EDI adapted to situations being able to run simulations in nanoseconds and all, but it still took a substantial mental effort to remember it sometimes. Now that she had a physical form, Shepard expected to see EDI make similar mistakes that the human crew did—like tripping over new wiring in the CIC, or using the wrong word while speaking and becoming flustered, or walking into the wrong room, or pressing the wrong number in the elevator—but she didn’t. EDI was perfect, apparently only requiring one occurrence to understand something. As Shepard stopped in front of her locker she concluded that EDI’s capabilities at adaptation could quite possibly come in handy on the field.

As she put on her armor, Shepard forced herself to clear her mind. Pulling the zippers, clasping buckles, and readjusting parts; it was almost ritualistic. A form of meditation. No thoughts penetrated her foreground as she put on the protective gear. It was the closest thing to peace that she got to these days.

When she finished she turned around and headed to grab her M-3 Predator pistol from Steve’s workbench; she’d asked him to calibrate a few things and change out the clip chamber so that she could carry more ammo. The reapers took more bullets to take down than the Geth or the Collectors ever did. The small husks and cannibals she could take care of with her biotics without effort, but the brutes they’d encountered on Menae had hardly been phased by them and she’d unloaded the entirety of her ammo. Had Garrus and James not been there, there would have been no way for her to take it down.

Steve had left the pistol cleaned and ready for her on the table but he was nowhere in sight—probably readying the Kodiak for departure. Shepard inspected the newly upgraded gun. He’d done something to the muzzle, too. It was longer, more narrow. _Probably a high caliber barrel,_ she thought. _Good call. It’ll break through that reaper tech a little easier._

“Hey, Lola.”

She turned to see James walk out from behind the storage. “James.”

“You still only taking that dinky thing with you?” he asked as he adjusted a rifle part under his arm, gesturing towards Shepard’s M-3 Predator with his eyes.

She nodded. “It’s all I need.”

“Seriously? Why don’t you take something with a little more fire power with you? Like the M-96 Mattock? Or the good ol’ M-8 Avenger?”

“Why would I want to take an assault rifle?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m a biotic fighter. It’s hard to throw biotics when both hands need to be on a large gun. What I can’t handle with my biotics, the M-3 Predator handles just fine,” she said as she cleared the chamber of the pistol, ensuring the safety was on.  

“Sure, but it never hurts to have more fire power. Y’know, in case you come across something big that isn’t fazed by your biotics.”

She shook her head, clipping the pistol to her hip. “That’s why I have a well balanced team. But with a pistol,” she paused, looking down to her newly holstered gun. “With a pistol I’m forced to look at each person I kill. It’s personal. With an assault rifle, I can just spray a room and not know who or what I’ve hit, rapidly moving onto the next target before I know if the previous has died or not.”

“So… isn’t that a good thing?” James asked looking skeptical.

Shepard clenched her jaw. She let out a long breath, considering before she answered. “No, James. It isn’t a good thing. I am responsible for the loss of life. If I am to kill someone, then I need to be able to put a face to the thing I’ve killed, to know that killing them was the only way out of the situation.”

James narrowed his eyes at her, still looking skeptical. “But we’re at war. And we’re fighting reapers. They’ve killed millions of humans and other species. Why would you—”

“Maybe this isn’t the best time to question the morals of your Commanding Officer, Lieutenant,” she said, cutting him off. Giving him a terse nod, she turned and walked towards the main shuttle bay area to wait for the rest of the crew to assemble.

“Shit,” she heard James mutter behind her.

Shepard then regretted getting snappy with him. Maybe he had simply been trying to talk shop and she’d misconstrued it. Taken it the wrong way and put words in his mouth. She understood where James was coming from, though. She shouldn’t feel remorse or even think for a second about having to choose between killing a reaper and another alternative. But she believed that violence wasn’t always the answer. The last few years in her Alliance career had made it difficult for her to uphold her beliefs of finding non-violent solutions, but she’d had chances to do so. She’d spared Fist’s life all those years ago, much to Wrex’s arguing. She’d let Helena Blake live. She’d saved the rachni queen. She forced Garrus to spare Sidonis. She’d spared various mercenaries who opted for non-violent resolutions. Death wasn’t always the answer. Maybe someday James would learn that, like how Garrus had begrudgingly learned—but it wasn’t her responsibility to teach it to him. Not right now, at least.

“I feel as though this armor has been padded in the rear to simulate Operative Lawson’s physique,” EDI’s synthetic voice sounded from across the shuttle bay.

Shepard looked up. She was standing close to the Kodiak and saw EDI and Liara walking past the requisitions table towards her. EDI had put on armor that indeed looked similar to what Miranda used to wear, causing Shepard to sneer. Shepard had always found the operative attractive. There had even been a few nights after seeing Ashely on Horizon when Shepard had considered trying to make a pass on Miranda after having a few drinks. But getting to bond with Jack, Jack’s strong dislike for Miranda steered Shepard clear from ever actually acting on her intoxicated whims. That and she was pretty sure Miranda was like Ashely—staunchly heterosexual.

Liara smiled. “I’ve only read about Ms. Lawson in reports. I’ve never actually seen what the woman looked like.”

“The suit is similar for sure,” Shepard finally said, smiling. “I’m sure Joker wouldn’t mind seeing you in it.”

If mechs could blush, Shepard was sure that EDI would be blushing right now. EDI had pulled her aside a few times now to discuss how Joker reacts to certain things that she does now that she has a body. It was apparent to the Spectre that Joker liked her. It made sense, since the two almost exclusively dealt with each other during their time with Cerberus. Though, Shepard remained curious if Joker would still have feelings for EDI had she occupied a male or genderless mech platform. But that was something that she’d probably never ask Joker, just something she’d mull over when pushing other thoughts out of her head.

Before Shepard could poke fun at EDI’s perceived blushing, the elevator doors opened and the loud, boisterous Wrex walked into the shuttle bay.

“Shepard! Liara! Just like old times, eh?” the old krogan yelled across the shuttle bay.

Shepard smirked as EDI and Liara gathered around her. “Just like old times, Wrex. Except we’re not going in to shoot anything up today. Just a simple extraction.”

Wrex’s large frame walked towards the assembled group. “Yeah? You honestly think this will be something quick and easy?” he asked, arching his scared eyebrow at Shepard.

“I’m hoping.”

“The Dalatrass has issued the release, hasn’t she?” Liara said as Wrex finally came to a stop. “What resistance could there be, Wrex?”

Wrex scoffed at her. “Liara, I would think you’d know better. You know the salarians—they’re slimy bastards that can’t be trusted. This all sounds too easy.”

Shepard shook her head. “This is the salarian home world that we’re headed to, and they aren’t used to seeing krogan here, so let’s keep it simple, Wrex.  We land, get the females, and leave before anyone changes their mind.”

“I still don’t trust a word they say,” Wrex said as he pointedly checked the ammo in his shotgun.

 _Maybe I shouldn’t let him have a weapon,_ Shepard thought to herself. Wrex, given even the slightest provocation, was amped to shoot any salarian on sight, even if they only looked at him funny. _But then again, taking his weapon away from him is bound to get me shot. “_ Let diplomacy play out, Wrex,” she finally said, abandoning the idea of disarming the krogan warlord. Besides, he could still throw or head-butt any salarian that he didn’t agree with. Disarming him would really just be a moot point. “You’ll get what you want.”

“These females are the best and probably the last hope for my people,” Wrex growled, suddenly pumping his shotgun so that it was loaded and ready to go. The sound of the pump action radiated through the metal shuttle bay.

Liara stepped up towards him, putting a hand on his large, reptilian forearm. “We’ll bring them back Wrex, don’t worry.”

 _Does she touch everyone?_ Shepard thought as Liara’s hand lingered on Wrex’s massive forearm.

“I appreciate that, Liara,” Wrex responded, moving to holster his shotgun on his backside. “I wouldn’t want anyone else along for the ride.” He grinned, showing his large carnivorous teeth.

He seemed almost too eager to get down to Sur’Kesh. Was he looking to start a fight? Shepard clenched her jaw. _This could get ugly… Maybe he should just stay behind._

Before she could tell him that he needed to stay, Steve rounded the front of the Kodiak. “We’re ready to get this bird in the air, Commander.”

“Great! Let’s get to gettin’,” Wrex said, pushing his way past Shepard to be the first one to board the shuttle, almost as if he knew what Shepard was thinking.

She shook her head and then followed Wrex on to the shuttle. Hopefully everything would go according to plan and she wouldn’t have to worry about drawing her weapon, or worry about trying to disarm Wrex. The galactic state was fragile enough as it was that she didn’t need a brawl to break out between a krogan clan leader and STG salarian soldiers. It would definitely be bad for the war effort.

Steve followed, and then EDI and Liara joined. Steve automatically made his way to the shuttle cockpit and began firing the Kodiak to life, closing the door to the small shuttlecraft.

“I can’t wait to make the salarians squirm,” Wrex said, adjusting the shotgun on its holster.

 _This is going to be one hell of a long day,_ Shepard thought as she put her forefingers to her temple.

“Retrieving the females should be a simple matter. It is unlikely that any violence will be involved.”

Wrex squinted at EDI, looking her up and down. He then abruptly turned to Shepard, ignoring the fact the EDI could respond for herself. “Who’s the synthetic?”

“I’m EDI, the Normandy’s Artificial intelligence,” EDI responded.

Wrex let out a singular laugh. “Sounds like Joker didn’t teach you anything about salarians.”

Shepard shook her head. Wrex almost sounded like Ashley when they first met—how she was so skeptical of all other alien races. Wrex had his reasons, for sure. But instead of trying to prove the other races wrong about the krogans’ violent tendencies, he amplified it in political situations. Maybe it worked with his own people, as he was apparently the prodigy krogan who was uniting their race—but it didn’t work with the rest of the galactic races.

Steve lifted off from the shuttle bay floor and they began moving out of the Normandy’s shuttle bay. _Well, no time to worry about Wrex’s xenophobia,_ Shepard thought as her hand went to a handle on the roof to steady herself as the shuttle moved out into atmo.

* * *

“Kodiak away,” Steve’s voice filtered in through Samantha’s ear piece.

Samantha let out a sigh and took the ear piece from her ear and placed it on the desk next to her console. The sides of her temples were pounding in rhythm to her heartbeat as the headache she’d been trying to ignore for the last four hours insisted on being noticed.

 _Bloody hell,_ she thought as she rubbed her temples and closed her eyes at the pressure. _Why did the Citadel pharmacy not have my migraine meds?_

She stood there, rubbing her temples until Moreau’s voice sounded from her console. “Shit Traynor, you look like a zombie asari who has been giving blow jobs to elcors and hanars all day.”

She slowly opened her eyes to find Moreau’s face illuminated on her console vid screen. “A what? That doesn’t even…”

He laughed and then smiled, showing his less than perfect teeth. “It’s me sayin’ you look like you could use a break. How long have you been at your station?”

“Since about 13:25. Why?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Moreau asked, his eyes growing wide.

Samantha blinked and looked down to the clock in the corner of her screen. It was 04:38 AST. “Blimey—I’ve been at my station for over fifteen hours.”

“Yeah—like I said,” Moreau started. “You look like you need a break.”

She stared down at the clock, still shocked that she’d been at her station for so long. She’d had a small break, about seven hours ago when she and Shepard had spoken in the observatory room. Before that, she’d been at her station for even longer, ever since re-boarding the Normandy after spending time with Steve on the Citadel. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten proper sleep. _That’s probably why I have this blighted headache,_ she thought.

“I can’t possibly take a break right now, Moreau. Shepard’s groundside. I need to stay at my post.” She said it even though a nap sounded like the best course of action at the present.

“Pft,” he sounded back. “It’s an extraction sanctioned by the salarian government. Nothing’s going to happen. Go on. You’re looking worse by the second.”

Samantha glowered at her console, raising a disapproving eyebrow at the pilot who was failing to sound at all funny. “Moreau, hasn’t anyone ever told you that that is not how you fall into the favor of a woman?”

“Hey, I call it how I see it, Traynor. And you look like shit.”

“How ever kind of you,” she retorted playfully while keeping her expression flat.

Moreau laughed. “Go on—go take a nap. If there is a dire situation, I’ll page your zombie ass.”

Samantha bit her lower lip. _I really should stay at my post… but I have been working for over fifteen hours._ She glanced at the ear piece near her console. The pulsing from her headache was the final determining factor.

“Alright then. But page me the moment anything unsanctioned happens groundside.”

“Rodger, Zombie Traynor.” Moreau winked and his console cam cut out.

She took in a deep breath and continued to try and ignore the throbbing in her skull. She ignored it as she cleaned up her desk space, putting her ear piece in the small drawer space under her console and locking her screen. As she took a step away from her work station, her stomach lurched, giving a loud grumble. As she pressed the elevator button, she brought up her other hand to feel her stomach. _When was the last time I ate?_

At the thought of food, her stomach gave another rumble, even louder than the previous. _Holy hell, it sounds like a bloody demon in there,_ she thought as the doors to the elevator opened. _Right,_ she thought as she walked into the elevator. _Eat, then nap._

The grumbling in her stomach didn’t cease as she rode the ever slow elevator to the crew deck. But it eventually opened and she stepped out, making a b-line for the pantry to see if there were any ready to eat items.

 _I still can’t get used to life on an active ship,_ she thought as she reached the counter. _I used to have a set schedule, with planned breaks and meals—meals that I could take at a cafeteria with hot food just waiting for me._ She opened a few cupboards to find very little. A few protein bars, fruit leather strips, and some stashed candy in the bottom cupboard. _Does the Normandy even have a cook?_ She thought as she moved to scour the upper cupboards.

Eventually she opened up a cupboard next to the refrigerator that contained large meal bars. Her initial reaction was to keep looking for something else to fill her stomach, but another lurch from her stomach convinced her to settle for the meal bar.

“Hey, Chiquita.”

Samantha closed the cupboard door and turned to see James Mr. Muscles Vega walking towards the kitchen. “Hi.”

James looked directly at the meal bar in her hand. “You actually eat that crap?”

“This crap is all there is. Can’t be too picky, can I?” Samantha said playfully as she tried opening the meal bar. What was going to be a suave open and take a large bite accompanied with a wink ended up being an embarrassing struggle to simply open the packaging. Samantha’s fingers felt weak and she couldn’t quite get a hold of the aluminum wrapping.

“Here,” James said after a moment of watching her struggle with it, taking the meal bar from Samantha’s hands. In a swift motion he opened it and handed it back to her. “You look like shit.”

She gave him a flat glare. “Thanks,” she said. _Leave it to men to remind me of how I look,_ she thought, her mind briefly going back to the courses she’d taken about feminism at University. She then took a large bite of the meal bar; the gummy texture of the meal bar initiated her gag reflex but she held it back. _How can something be so gummy and still have the consistency of sand?_ she thought as she forced herself to swallow.

“I’m just sayin’.” He shrugged. “Next time you’re hungry, come find me. I make the best eggs this side of the galaxy. Perfect hangover cure,” James said as he turned to open the refrigerator. “Even though I’m still trying to figure out where these eggs come from.” He eyed the carton of eggs that he pulled out.

“I’m not hung over, Vega.”

James raised an unconvinced eyebrow at her. “Right. Then how else do you explain your glossy, squinty eyed complexion?”

“Oh come on Vega, leave the girl alone,” Garrus said as he walked towards the kitchen from the forward guns.

“Vakarian! Have you tried my eggs?”

Garrus blinked twice. He then turned his head from James and looked directly at Samantha. “Is that some human attempt at flirtation?” he asked flatly.

She smiled. “Quite possibly. Although, I’m not sure if it has ever been successful.”

“You wound me, Chiquita,” James said playfully, bringing a hand to his chest as he set a frying pan on the stove top. “But seriously, Vakarian, you’ve gotta try my eggs. Best food on the Normandy.”

Garrus continued to give him a flat, almost blank stare. “Yeah… I’m good, Vega.”

“Ah, c’mon!”

Samantha smiled and forced herself to take another bite of her meal bar. It was just as awful going down the second time. “Have fun with your eggs, Vega,” she said as she began walking away.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, Traynor!”

She smiled again, stopped and turned around. “People kept telling me that through university about men—but I’m still pretty sure I’m still right about not liking them, too.”

Garrus’ flat face broke as he started to snicker. James mimed being shot in the heart, bringing his hand up to his chest and leaning back slightly with an overly dramatic expression on his face. Samantha laughed and then turned again to continue walking towards the crew quarters. If she didn’t keep her forward momentum, she’d probably let herself get stuck in a conversation with Garrus and James. Not that that was a bad thing—she rather enjoyed both of the soldiers, as they seemed to understand her humor and were usually just as quick witted as she was; but she really needed to get to her bunk and sleep.

She tried a third bite of the gritty meal bar and her stomach immediately disapproved of being force fed the gummy sand that **_somehow_** passed the Alliance’s nutritional standards. But, on an up note, Samantha noticed that most of the crew was up and about. When she walked into the crew quarters, she saw that there was only one other sleeping body there. _I might actually be able to get some sleep if no one is in here chatting,_ she thought as she pulled the wrapping back over her half eaten meal bar and placed it in her cubby drawer next to her bunk.

Sitting on her bottom bunk, she began to unbutton her shirt when her stomach churned, almost in rhythm to the pounding in her skull. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned forward. _Eating is supposed to help, stomach. Not supposed to make things worse,_ she tried to convince herself.

Growing up in the colonies, Samantha hadn’t been the only child to be stricken with a weak respiratory system or other medical issues. Living on a terraformed planet had its ups, but it had a lot of downs, too. The delicate ecosystem of being born on Horizon had left her with bad allergies, weak lungs, and mind numbing, physically debilitating migraines. There were a couple of reasons she’d wanted to travel to earth to attend university—she had hoped that living on a planet that was meant to support human life might help her body function in a more healthy fashion. Living on earth had helped—but it had exposed her to a lot of new, foreign pollens and materials that her body decided it was also allergic to.

The allergies and the asthma were controllable, so long as she stayed consistently dosed on her medication and didn’t have to run for more than ten minutes. The migraines, however, were a terror in and of themselves. In her late teens, the doctors started giving her a daily medication that seemed to have some day to day relief—but she would still suffer from intense migraines when she was under duress, intense stress, or long hours at work. Standing at her duty station for the last fifteen hours was the obvious reason that she had a migraine. But this one was worse than any she’d had in a long while—since even before working on the Normandy’s retrofits back on Earth. It didn’t help that she’d been feeling the headache slowly build over the last few days. Active warship life really wasn’t something that she thought she’d ever get used to. She wasn’t on a consistent sleeping schedule (which was the top proprietor on causing migraines); what little sleep she did get was awful; she didn’t eat at consistent times; sometimes would completely forget to eat; and she was working long hours under some pretty stressful situations.

She moved a hand from her stomach to her temple, staying in her balled position. The pulsing in her head was starting to cause white to frame her vision. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temple in an effort to release some of the tension but it didn’t help quickly enough. Suddenly, her throat began to tighten and she could feel her body preparing to throw up.

She stood quickly and made a b-line for the bathroom that was just across the hallway. Thankfully no one was around to see Samantha careen around the bathroom corner and clutch to the toilet, just in time for her stomach to empty the small amount of meal bar and a healthy dose of bile.

“Oh dear sweet baby hanar tits, why?” she moaned as she let her forehead rest on the lip of the cool toilet. The cold metal provided a small amount of relief to her headache. But not enough of a relief for Samantha to feel comfortable with the amount of germs her body was now in contact with.

“I’ll wager there is a twenty percent chance that that was caused by that awful meal bar,” she whispered to the toilet. The toilet remained silent.

She sat there for a few moments longer, trying to figure out what had just happened and waiting to see if she’d throw up again. In the past, she had thrown up from simply having a migraine—but only from the really painful ones. Her head continued to throb, her pulse audible in her ears.

“Fifty percent chance it was from this grotty headache,” she grumbled into the toilet bowl. The toilet still remained silent. “Chatty one, you are,” she joked to the cold metal toilet, her voice echoing slightly in the shallow bowl.

After a minute or so, it seemed that her body was done retching and she moved to stand. She had to make a grab for the wall as she stood, her vision swimming enough to make her unbalanced.

“Yup—maybe ninety percent chance this was the headache’s fault,” she said as she made a grab for the sink.

She gripped the edges of the sink with her weak feeling hands. Once she was certain that she wasn’t going to topple over she turned the water on, splashing her face and rinsing her mouth several times to rid her mouth of the residual bile. Under different circumstance, she’d go and grab her toothbrush, but she didn’t quite trust her legs or equilibrium to make it to the crew quarters without incident.

How had the day ended up like this? She’d enjoyed her time with Steve and relished the small amount of time she’d spent with Shepard. _This is what I get for not being able to friendzone my Commanding Officer, isn’t it?_ she thought.

She tried to look at herself in the mirror, but her eyes were forced to squint as the overhead light of the bathroom assaulted her eyes—intensifying her headache. She’d had colleagues and classmates who’d never had migraines before and never believed her when she had to take personal time due to the pain they caused. _If only they could feel **this** ,_ she thought, slightly bitter. _They’d never question me again._

She let out a long breath. _Showers usually make me feel a little better._ She tried to look around the bathroom with her unfocused sight. There were towels stored above the toilet. _I could hop in and then dash to the crew quarters when I’ve finished,_ she thought. The idea of walking to get a change of clothing and walking back—although a small distance—sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Even though she was confident that she wasn’t going to fall over where she stood, she still wasn’t convinced that the dizziness had fully subsided.

While keeping a hand on the wall, she made her way to the nearest shower facet and turned the water on. The hot water took forever to reach these showers and she’d learned to let the water run while she undressed to wait for the heat. Of course, there was always the chance that the hot water wouldn’t last for the duration of disrobing if she wasn’t quick enough to get in. She’d quickly gotten used to lukewarm, if not downright cold showers. But now—since she was the only one showering—she hoped for scalding hot water. Hot showers usually helped lessen her headaches the best.

* * *

“Oh, oh I got one that isn’t based on stereotypes, EDI. What do you get when—” Joker stopped and looked to EDI’s vacant chair and frowned. “Guess I’ll save that one for later.”

It was strange being alone on the bridge again—it had been almost a half an hour since he’d sent Traynor to take a break, and almost an hour since EDI left to rendezvous with Shepard. Joker had gotten so used to EDI being in the seat to his right that he now felt unusually alone. Before the SR2 was built, he had grown quite comfortable being the only person on the bridge. He felt that people found him more humorous when he was only bothered a few times during his shifts. But over that last year, he’d grown so used to EDI’s disembodied voice and their constant banter that being alone on the bridge now felt strange to him. And with EDI’s acquisition of the mech body a few days ago, he was surprised how quickly he’d become used to her physical presence. Maybe it was because before EDI’s holo had almost always been up while he was flying before.

 _Hell if I know,_ he thought to himself as he opened up a maintenance log. _I definitely prefer her streamlined metal curves to that dildo looking holo any day._ _Maybe that’s why Traynor found EDI attractive—EDI’s voice is definitely sexy, there’s no doubt about that. But I’m sure Traynor’s into the kinky lesbian sex toy stuff, right?_ He adjusted himself in his chair and then sat there trying to imagine what kind of things Traynor did when she was alone. _I’m sure she’s got something that resembles EDI holo form. She’s got—_

“Joker!” Shepard’s voice suddenly sounded through the communication channel wired through his console. “Where the hell is Traynor?!”

 _Holy fuck nuggets!_ he thought, jumping slightly at the sudden static appearance of Shepard’s voice. She sounded out of breath and angry. _Oooh… angry isn’t good,_ he thought, almost afraid to respond. “Uh… Hi, Commander.”

“Answer my question, Joker! Where’s Traynor? I’ve tried to reach her but I just get static.”

Joker swallowed hard. “Um… she’s probably taking a nap.”

“What?! Shit,” she said under her breath. She suddenly sounded like she had started to run. “EDI, Liara—get to the elevator!” she yelled. Joker reached for the volume control and turned the feed down just enough so that the speakers wouldn’t blare at him anymore. “Why is she taking a nap, Joker? She’s supposed to be on duty!”

“Well, she’d been at her duty station for like 15 hours, Shepard. She looked awful, so I told her to go and take a break.” He listened for a moment. It still sounded like Shepard was running. “I take it things aren’t going according to plan?”

“Get her back to her duty station ASAP! I need her to funnel me intel on Cerberus!”

“Cerberus?” Joker blinked a few times and readjusted his hat. “Why do you need intel on them right this second, Commander? Aren’t you supposed to be playing chauffer to female krogans?”

“Because they’re attacking the goddamn base!”

“Whatever happened to _simple extraction mission?_ ” Joker sighed. “Does anything ever go according to plan with you?”

Shepard let out a hard laugh. “After this many years of working together, Joker—I’m almost insulted that you’d assume tha—GET BACK!” The sound of an explosion filled the audio feed.

Joker jerked away from his console screen and the audio speakers. The explosion sounded close to Shepard’s communicator. “Shepard?” _What the hell was that? Wait… EDI!_ Joker thought in a panic. “Shepard?! What the shit is going on down there?!”

The sound of Shepard groaning finally replaced the static. “Aside from all the fun?” Shepard let out a painful grunt. “Cerberus is trying to blow me up, apparently.” She paused. “Shit… Liara, you ok?”

“Yes, Commander,” Liara’s voice came in soft and distant. She wasn’t too far away from Shepard if her voice could be picked up by Shepard’s radio.

“EDI? How about you?” Shepard asked.

“Shepard—you should send EDI back!” Joker started. “This is a shit time to test out her off ship—”

“There are Cerberus birds in the air, Joker. Sending her back to the Normandy would be more dangerous,” Shepard snapped. “She’s safer with me on the ground right now.”

“All parts and operating system functional, Commander,” EDI said, sounding slightly further away than Liara.

“Good. Is there another way out of here?”

“Shepard…?” Joker interjected.

“Ah, don’t worry. I’ll keep your girlfriend safe. She is a part of my crew, after all.”

“Shepard, I don’t like this,” Joker responded without any humor in his voice.

“Me neither, Joker,” Shepard snapped. “But it is what it is. And I need Traynor back to her duty station so that I can make the best of this debacle.”

“I think I can handle it. You just need me to track their movements, right?”

“Joker, it wasn’t a suggestion. Get Traynor. Now. I don’t know what you were thinking authorizing her to leave her duty station while we had an active ground mission underway.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be a complicated mission!” Joker said defensively. “She was visibly exhausted! And we had government authorization.”

“And when have politicians ever **_really_** been helpful to us?”

“Point taken, Commander.”

Shepard let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl. “When I’m on the ground, Specialist Traynor needs to be at her post. Period.” Shepard stopped speaking and gunfire radiated through the audio feed. “I’ll apologize for the long hours later,” she almost yelled after a resounding thud was heard through the speakers. Maybe she’d taken cover after returning fire. Maybe she’d launched over a barricade. Maybe she’d been hit. Who knew.

 _Dammit, why don’t we have external armor cameras so I can see what the hell is going on down there?_ Joker thought anxiously. “I can do it, Commander. Just give me a few minutes.”

“I don’t have a few minutes!” she responded and then returned more gunfire. “You may be able to figure it out, but Traynor knows how to do it and do it quickly. Dammit—Liara, watch your left flank!” More gunfire sounded and Shepard let out a yell that sounded more like an angry snarl. “I need to know the movements and communications of Cerberus and I need to know now!”

“Shit—alright, alright. I’m hailing her,” he finally conceded. “I’ll do what I can until she gets to her post.”

More gunfire and the sound of a far off explosion. “You do that,” Shepard said and then her audio feed cut out.

 _Holy hell,_ he thought as he flared his omni-tool to life. _Nothing ever goes according to the stupid plan around here._

He typed a quick message to Traynor’s omni-tool. [NON-SANCTIONED CERBERUS ACTIVITY ON THE GROUND. SHEPARD WANTS YOU TO YOUR DUTY STATION ASAP.]

“Alright,” Joker said as he put his hands together and stretched out his fingers, careful not to pop the joints in his knuckles for fear of breaking something. “I got this. If Traynor can do it in her sleep, I should be able to figure it out, right?”

He opened the a few windows he was able to pull up scans of the outer planet. There weren’t any active ship emissions that he could pick up on.

“Ah balls… they have cloaking abilities don’t they. I mean,” he scoffed. “They rebuilt the Normandy and duplicated her stealth drives. Fuuuuuuck.”

Trying a few other tactics, he spent the next five or so minutes attempting to locate non salarian and alliance communication channels to no avail. In a moment of frustration he swiveled his chair around to look down the CIC where Traynor was not at her post. “Dammit Traynor…” he gritted his teeth. “Ah screw it,” he said as he patched in the code for making a ship wide announcement. “Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor—you’re needed in the CIC immediately,” he said in his most professional, non-panicking tone. The whole ship didn’t need to know what was happening groundside, did they?

* * *

_Well, I can’t say that I’m the least bit surprised that Shepard has missed her appointment,_ Chakwas thought as she submitted her finalized medical stock request that she was hoping they’d be able to fill the next time they docked at the Citadel. They weren’t running low on anything just yet, but the rate that Commander Shepard went through medi-gel was alarming and she didn’t want to run the risk of running out.

Shepard had been on Chakwas’ mind a lot recently. She was worried about Shepard’s mental state. Of course, any medical professional would be after reading her files and working with her. Chakwas had never seen such a dedicated soldier who was seemingly so well put together. It wasn’t until her rejoining the Normandy after the collector mission that she had started to notice the subtle changes in Shepard’s emotional demeanor. She’d made Shepard schedule some time for this afternoon to just come talk to her. She wasn’t a certified psychologist, and her knowledge base on talk therapy was limited, but she was the only person who Shepard seemed interested in talking to about her problems, even if it was reluctantly so.

She let out a long sigh and stood from her desk and looked about the med bay. She’s always kept the med bay pristine, but she’d gone through and sterilized everything again shortly before Shepard’s ground team deployed to Sur’Kesh. She didn’t know how many female krogans were supposed to come back with Shepard, or in what state they’d be in. She wanted to be as prepared as she could be.

“Seriously—this is not a drill,” Joker’s voice sounded through the ship wide intercom for the second time in the last ten minutes. “Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor, get your ass in the CIC, stat! This is a direct order from Commander Shepard. I repeat—this is not a drill.”

Chakwas’ eyebrows furrowed as she looked up and out through the med bay windows into the dining area of the ship. There were several crew members sitting idly at the tables and looking around, somewhat confused. “What the devil is going on?” Chakwas asked. She quickly scanned the rest of the room for Traynor’s face, but she wasn’t there.

The light on her console began to flicker, indicating there was some kind of communication coming through. She stepped over and accepted the transmission by hitting a key on her keyboard.

“Doc! Traynor isn’t in there with you, is she?” Joker asked just as soon as his face became visible on the console screen.

“No, she isn’t. Is everything alright, Joker?”

“The mission apparently has gone to shit because Cerberus decided they’d like to gate crash our little party.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Chakwas asked rhetorically.

“Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise any of us anymore. I mean, the Illusive Man probably gets the weird urges of _Oh, I haven’t fucked with Shepard recently. Maybe I should do that. Yeah, I should do that. Aint nobody got time for reapers anyhow._ ” Joker said as he tried to imitate the Illusive Man’s voice.

Chakwas gave Joker a flat look. “Why does Commander Shepard need Specialist Traynor?”

“Oh, right.” Joker coughed. “She wants her back to her duty station, but I can’t get a hold of her.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have the crewmen on the deck three begin looking for her. I’ll give you a status update as soon as I know something.”

“Great. Thanks, Doc.”

The console went black and Chakwas shook her head slightly as she began to walk towards the med bay doors. _Maybe someday Joker will learn when it is appropriate to go on his tirades of impersonations and jokes,_ she thought. She shook her head. She knew that that was unlikely.

A few crew members immediately looked up as she walked towards the dining area. None of them were moving. Some of them were talking in hushed tones to one another and motioning towards the ceiling.

“Well, don’t just stand there gawking,” Chakwas said when she got closer. “Go look for Specialist Traynor. The lot of you!”

As if moving as one, all of the crewmembers went into attention and said a collective “yes ma’am” and dispersed from the room; all the crewmembers aside from James and Garrus, who were leaning on the kitchen counters, watching Chakwas.

“That means you, too,” Chakwas said to the soldiers.

James shrugged. “Last I saw Traynor, she was eating one of those crappy meal bars and walking towards the elevator.”

Chakwas looked to Garrus, who shrugged. “She might have gone to sleep,” he offered. “She didn’t look so good. Well, she still looked better than Vega here,” he jabbed.

“Really, Vakarian?” James retorted.

Chakwas shook her head. “James, you go check the crew quarters for her.”

James looked from Garrus to Chakwas, his eyebrows raised quizzically. “Er, shouldn’t you do that? Since, y’know, you’re a woman?”

“I’ll be checking the lavatories, James. And Garrus, check the observatory rooms.”

“I’m sure the rest of the crew will have checked those already,” Garrus said.

“Just go. Now!” Chakwas said, waving her hands at the two soldiers as if shooing off an annoying animal.

Both men finally pushed off of the counter and began to walk toward their designated areas to search for Traynor. With another shake of her head, Chakwas made her way to the women’s lavatory.

She opened the bathroom door and immediately heard water running. A privacy screen had dropped from the ceiling, meaning that someone was actively taking a shower. She stepped inside, letting the door close behind her as she saw Garrus move into the observatory room and James into the crew quarters out of the corner of her eye.

“Specialist Traynor?” Chakwas asked, trying to speak over the echoing sound of the cascading water. “Is that you in there?”

There was no response. Chakwas frowned and looked around and saw a pile of clothing next to the sink. Normally the crew walked into the showers with only a towel. She’d never seen an unceremonious pile of clothing in here before.

“Hello?” she asked tentatively. There was still no reply from whoever was in the shower stall. _This is strange,_ she thought. _That privacy screen only activates when there is someone physically present while the water is turned on._ “Hello?” she asked louder. There was still no response from the person in the shower.

Chakwas stepped forward and activated her omni-tool. _Well, there’s either a ship malfunction, or someone unconscious,_ she thought as she pressed a combination of codes. A moment later, the privacy screen began to retract back into the ceiling, exposing Specialist Traynor’s naked unconscious body on the shower floor.

“Oh dear,” Chakwas exclaimed. She moved quickly, stepping lightly around Traynor to turn off the water that had gone frigid. She then grabbed the towel that was draped over the towel rack nearest the sink. She bent down and started wrapping the towel around Traynor’s naked, cold, and wet body. After she was wrapped as well as Chakwas could manage, she yelled for James. “James! Garrus! I need you in here!”

 While she waited for the soldiers she checked Traynor’s pulse. Her heart rate was severely sluggish and her body temperature was far too cold. She moved Traynor’s head so that her throat was straight and nothing was obstructing her wind pipe. As her head moved with Chakwas’ touch, red suddenly became visible in the water that was draining from her dark hair.

“What happened here?” Chakwas asked quietly, gingerly touching Traynor’s head. Her gloved fingers came away with blood.

The door to the bathroom slid open and Chakwas turned her head to see James and Garrus running in.

“What’s wrong, Doctor Chak—oh,” James asked, suddenly coming to a stop and looking down at Traynor’s body. “What the hell happened?”

“That’s exactly what I intend on finding out,” Chakwas responded as she stood from the floor. “I need one of you to carry her to the med bay.”

Garrus moved forward to help, but James moved quicker. “I got her, Vakarian.”

Garrus nodded and then looked to Chakwas. Before he had the chance to say something, Joker’s voice sounded from Chakwas’ omni-tool. “Has she been found yet? Shepard is about to jump through the communication channel and rip out my jugular.”

Chakwas’ shook her head as she watched James bend down and begin trying to pick Traynor’s wet body up. “We’ve found her, Joker. But she’s incapacitated.”

“If she’s asleep, just wake her up!”

“Joker, she’s unconscious, not asleep.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

James stood with Traynor’s limp body held against his chest in a bridal carry. Suddenly, Traynor let out an almost inaudible moan. “I think she’s coming to, Doc.”

“I’m not joking, Jeff. I’m sending Garrus to you with a briefing. I need to tend to Specialist Traynor,” she said and then immediately powered down her omni-tool. Garrus nodded and exited the bathroom. She moved next to James and took Traynor’s head in her hands to try and support her neck. She knew that there was blood, but as to why she was bleeding or what happened she didn’t know and didn’t want to risk further injuring her. “Let’s get her to the med bay.”

“Right,” James said nervously.

They walked out of the bathroom, walking as quickly as they could without jostling Traynor around too much. A few crew members had returned to the dining hall and they all immediately started to stare quietly.

Chakwas looked at all of them as they passed and then looked behind her as they walked—they were leaving a water trail. “You,” she said to the nearest crewmember. “Make sure this water gets wiped up. I don’t need to have to treat someone for slipping and cracking open their skull.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” the crewmember said, moving quickly in the opposite direction.

As she and James walked through the med bay doors, she powered on her omni-tool again. “Put her on that bed in the corner,” she said and then let go. She punched in another code on her omni-tool and the glass of the med bay immediately fogged, obscuring any outside onlookers’ view. She then grabbed a blanket and a standard med kit and walked over to the exam table that James had put her on.

James stepped back, still looking concerned for Traynor’s wellbeing. The entire front of his white shirt was soaked through and Chakwas could see almost every muscle on his stomach and chest.

“What do you need me to do,” he asked with his hands at the ready.

“You should probably go and assist Garrus and Joker,” Chakwas said as she began scanning Traynor’s vital signs.

“I don’t know shit about communications, Doc.”

Traynor’s core body temperature was 35.5 °C, dangerously close to hypothermia. _How long were you in there?_ Chakwas thought.

“James, estimate for me when you last saw Specialist Traynor.”

“Uh,” he stammered. “About forty five minutes ago? Maybe an hour? I’m not sure.”

 “Oh dear,” she said quietly. “Alright, thank you.”

“Is she okay?”

“I’m not sure yet, James. But I’ve got her from here. Go help Joker and Garrus on the bridge. I’m sure there’s something you could do to help. Or that the three of you together can figure out whatever it is that Shepard needed Specialist Traynor for,” she said as she began trying to find the wound on Traynor’s head.

“Right,” James said, nodding his head. “But if you need any help, page me. Okay? Esteban would never forgive me if something happened to her that I could have helped prevent.”

“Who is Esteban?” Chakwas asked finally locating the site of the head trauma. It wasn’t deep. It seemed to be just a surface cut. _Maybe blunt force that split the skin?_ Chakwas thought _. Did she faint and hit her head, or did she hit her head on something while standing?_

“You know, Cortez?” James answered.

“Ah, right,” Chakwas said, not really paying attention to James any longer. “Yes, I’ll page you if I need any assistance.”

And with a final nod, James jogged out of the medical bay.

* * *

“What does she mean that Traynor is out of commission?!” Joker asked in a panic when he heard the doors to the bridge open and saw Garrus walk through. He was still trying to locate any information for Shepard about Cerberus’ movements and wasn’t coming up with anything helpful.

“Doctor Chakwas found her passed out in the bathroom.”

Joker stopped and turned to look at Garrus. “Shit… what happened? Is she okay?”

Garrus took a seat in EDI’s chair and began to open a few programs. “No idea. But she was out cold.”

Joker could feel his face fall. He was suddenly worried about Traynor. “Well fuck me…”

Suddenly, the previously quiet communications channel blared to life with gunfire. “Where the hell is Traynor?!” Shepard’s voice yelled into the bridge.

Joker looked to Garrus. They shared a quick look of _do we tell her_ before Joker responded, “So… uh… funny story, Commander.”

“I don’t have time for that! I need to know—” Shepard’s voice was cut off as the sound of an explosion that drowned out everything else on the audio feed.

“What was that?” Garrus asked, looking to Joker. “What’s happening down there?”

“Cerberus decided to join the recovery party,” Joker told him.

Then they were both caught off guard by the sound of a singular laugh from Shepard. “Careful, there goes the next Shadow Broker, Liara.”

“Not funny,” Liara’s voice responded, sounding somewhat distant.

“Oh,” Joker scoffed. “No time for funny stories, eh?”

“Nevermind, Joker,” Shepard said, her voice becoming slightly angry again. “If Traynor’s asleep, have someone physically drag her to the CIC. I’m sure she’d be faster at this half-awake than you right now.”

“That hurts, Commander,” Joker said as Garrus chuckled.

“Shit, LIGHT EM UP!” Gunfire erupted through the channel, filling the bridge with chaotic noise. “Get her ass to the CIC, Joker. Now!” And then the feed cut out, leaving the bridge painfully quiet.

Joker moved a hand up to his neck and rubbed nervously. “I guess I should have told her about the whole Traynor being KO’ed thing, huh.”

“Probably not,” Garrus said calmly. “It’ll just be another thing that will distract Shepard. You know how she is.”

“Point. Well, let’s do what we can in Traynor’s absence.”

The doors to the bridge opened again and heavy foot falls were followed by James. “How can I help?”

Joker turned in his chair and eyed James. “Uh… if I need you to punch through a computer, I’ll let you know.”

“Hey now—three heads are better than one.”

Garrus’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really pick women up with those lines, Vega?”

“What?” James asked, looking thoroughly confused. “That wasn’t…”

Joker shook his head and turned back around in his chair. “How’d you get so wet?”

“I carried Traynor out of the bathroom.”

“What?!” Joker turned back around to look at James. “You got to see Traynor naked?! Man—I never see any of the good stuff.”

Garrus laughed as he began to swipe through various screens. “He wishes he could have seen Traynor naked. But Chakwas had her pretty well covered when we got there.”

“Yeah,” James said uncomfortably. “Listen, this isn’t the time for joking around. Those are our people down there. We need to figure out how to get them back in one piece.”

Joker blinked. It was odd for him to see James so focused. Normally he was pretty chill and talkative. “Uh… use that console over there to see if you can help us find clusters of Cerberus locations.”

“Right. I think I can manage that,” James said as he moved toward the console.

Joker turned back to his multiple console screens. “According to Shepard, Traynor can do this shit in her sleep. So hop to it, oh third head,” he said, trying to lighten the mood in the bridge.

“I feel like I’m missing something…” Garrus said quietly in his corner.

* * *

“Shepard, heads up!” Wrex’s voiced blared through Shepard’s comms channel. “You’ve got incoming!”

_Easy,_ she thought. _This was supposed to be easy! Get in, get what we came for, get out, and be done._ She clenched her jaw, looking up just in time to see the Cerberus atlas land and additional troops deploy from another shuttle. As soon as it landed, the atlas fired a missile directly at Shepard’s location.

 “God dammit,” she said under her breath before jumping out of the way. The missile came uncomfortably close to her, narrowly missing her legs as she was in midair. As she hit the ground, she rolled behind a convenient desk that provided cover. The missile was then followed by a hailstorm of bullets from the advancing foot soldiers.

Shepard looked up to see that Liara and EDI were also taking cover behind an upturned desk to her left. She was about to ask them their tactical thoughts when another missile came careening at the desk she was behind, causing a deafening explosion.

“Shepard! I can’t land until you deal with that thing! It’s too dangerous!” Wrex yelled into the radio.

Shepard’s eye twitched at the volume of Wrex’s voice. She had half a mind to rip out her ear piece but refrained. She gave herself a second to let the ringing in her ears stop and then she quickly peeked around the corner. The atlas was rounding on the stairs.

“Krogan acquired,” the atlas pilot said as more troops moved into the area.

“Door’s damaged!” Mordin’s panicked voice said in her radio. “Can’t get out.”

Shepard looked quickly to the elevator to see Mordin throwing his body against the door to try and force it open. Mordin suddenly stopped banging against the door as a spray of bullets hit the transport unit. “The containment shield is weakening,” as he looked at the monitor next to the jammed door. “Protect Eve, Shepard! She’s venerable!” He sounded very uncharacteristically panicked.

“You heard him,” Shepard yelled to Liara and EDI. They both nodded and then simultaneously, all three of them jumped to their feet and began firing on the foot soldiers.

“Impressive, but I prefer my body,” Shepard heard EDI say as they took cover to reload their guns. Shepard smirked. She was so far very impressed by EDI’s battle capabilities. Although she wasn’t a perfect fighter, she had already noticed a vast improvement in her battle strategies since the first group of troops that they had encountered. It was amazing to watch the rapid adaptation.

“Cerberus never did play fair,” this from Liara. Shepard glanced at her before resuming her fire: Liara was smirking. Could it be that she and EDI were actually having **_fun_**? This idea made Shepard smile.

They all popped out of cover at the same time again. Shepard threw a flare at a cluster of troops that had advanced towards the elevator and Liara threw a singularity at the base of the stairs that Cerberus troops were funneling down. Even though the troops could see the singularity field and avoid it, it caused them to find an alternate route and thusly giving the small team more time to pick off some of the troops.

EDI fired an overload at the atlas, but to little effect and then ducked just as it fired a missile in their general direction.

“Shepard, you getting old?” Wrex’s voice rang in Shepard’s ear piece. “Take that thing out! Fighting Saren was a lot harder than this!”

Shepard rolled her eyes but heard Liara say: “Wrex still has his temper.” Her voice was still peppy. And with a quick glance Shepard saw that she was still smiling.

Shepard took in a deep breath, her back pressed firmly against her cover as the missile shot at EDI exploded as it hit a wall about twenty yards away. She then checked her clip—she was running dangerously low on ammunition. _Dammit,_ she thought. _I should have brought Garrus or James. Liara’s and my biotics can’t bring an atlas mech down._

Another missile flew in their general direction, causing another explosion, but this time it was closer.

_Maybe I should have listened to James on this one and brought a gun with a higher ammo capacity._

“Advise caution,” EDI suddenly said as she ducked behind cover, reloading her semi-automatic pistol. “More enemies have dropped in this area.”

Shepard poked her neck around the corner of her desk cover, ducking quickly back to avoid a bullet to the face. Her shields would have handled it just fine, but she wanted to save the battery on her shield in case the atlas managed to hit her. She tried looking again and saw what EDI was speaking about. There were at least a dozen more soldiers, all clustered around the atlas.

 _Wait… this could still work,_ Shepard thought. She took in a deep, calming breath, and then dove towards the cover that Liara and EDI were behind. Liara moved enough to allow her over and then squatted down to reload.

“Okay, wait—we need a game plan,” Shepard said, putting a hand out as EDI moved to stand. EDI remained still in a low and awkward squat the most humans wouldn’t have been able to maintain. She envied the capabilities of EDI’s new body. “EDI—you have grenades, right?”

“Negative, Commander.”

“Liara, how about you?”

“I didn’t even think to grab any, Shepard. It isn’t something I usually use in a fire fight.”

Shepard clenched her jaw. _So much for that plan,_ she thought. She took in another deep breath and closed her eyes to think. Another missile exploded, this time in front of their cover.

“EDI—are the soldiers still clustered around the atlas?” Shepard asked, another plan formulating in her head.

EDI moved quickly—only after she was moving to crouch again did the bullets start flying overhead.

“Yes, commander. There are ten positioned in front of the atlas, and two soldiers with shields approaching our location.”

Shepard nodded. “Alright, you two concentrate on the atlas. EDI, whenever you can, use overload. Liara, do the same with your warp field. And while you’re both shooting at it, concentrate on the glass of the cockpit. If we can’t destroy the atlas, we can at least break the glass and kill the pilot. I’ll handle the shielded guys heading our way. Once they’re out, I’ll help you.”

EDI and Liara both nodded and said a unanimous “Understood!”

Shepard nodded again and then holstered her handgun. She needed to save her bullets for the giant mech. She could handle the shielded Cerberus troops in hand to hand—or at least in theory it worked in her head.

“Now!” Shepard said suddenly and then jumped up and vaulted over the top of the desk they were crouched behind.

Gunfire erupted behind her, indicating the Liara and EDI were upholding their part of the plan. The shielded Cerberus fighters were closer than Shepard had anticipated, but her vaulting suddenly over the desk caught them both off guard. In mid jump she activated her biotic charge and then went feet first into the nearest soldier, pushing him back several feet but not down.

The other soldier began firing at her and she charged off of the first solider and into the second. As she phased out of the charge, she grabbed the sides of the second soldiers’ shield and pulled just enough to unbalance him. The first soldier then began to fire at her. Quickly, she jumped up and over the second, using him as a body shield. She could hear the bullets pelt off the shield.

Before the second soldier had a chance to fully react, Shepard pushed her hands out and focused a throw on the shield, pushing it forward and out of his hands. The shield flew forward, crashing into the other soldier and making him lose his footing. As the second was in the process of turning around, Shepard pulled her right arm back and then punched forward with a flare to the soldier’s face. The soldier’s body disintegrated in a biotic haze in front of her.

She pushed forward through the residual haze and then biotically pulled the shield from the remaining soldier who had just caught his balance. She then ran forward, letting out a snarl as she caught the shield in midair and then used it like a battering ram, straight to the Cerberus soldier’s throat. As the shield collided with his neck, she then used her biotics to throw the shield, giving it extra momentum. The soldier fell back, unmoving and dead.

 _Right, two down,_ she thought as she looked up. _Just a giant atlas mech and a handful of troops left._ She fired off a flare aimed at the base of the atlas’ mechanical feet, killing most of the remaining Cerberus soldiers. She grinned. Liara and EDI took down the remaining foot soldiers. _Just an atlas,_ Shepard thought satisfactorily.

“Unleash everything you’ve got!” Shepard commanded as she pulled her handgun from her holster and began firing at the glass. She stood firmly in place—completely erect in the middle of a battle field with no cover. She was hoping that the pilot would try and take the opportunity to take her out so that it would provide enough of a distraction to finish of the already sparking unit.

He fell for it, causing Shepard to grin again.

The atlas took two steps to straighten out the upper half and then started priming a missile. Just before it could launch, EDI used another overload, Liara used another warp, and Shepard threw a flare with the last reserves of her biotic energy. All three attacks hit the atlas at the same time. Shepard assumed that the overload caused the missile to not fire, because it blew up in the barrel of the atlas’ arm, exploding the rest of the mech.

A large pile of distorted metal was the only thing left when the smoke finally cleared.

“We did it!” Liara shouted excitedly.

“Shepard, I think you did it,” Wrex radioed. “It looks clear from here. I’m coming in now.”

At this point, Shepard was breathing heavily. She hadn’t used that many biotic combinations in such a quick succession in a long time. The fight between her and Jack in the shuttle bay was the closest she’d come since being reinstated but she hadn’t been using flare then. It was something she’d figured out while being a guest at the alliance. But the powerful biotic explosion was good at depleting her biotic energy. That aside, it was gratifying to know that she was still capable of doing hand to hand and besting two well armored opponents.

Liara and EDI were moving towards the transfer unit, presumably to help Mordin get out and finish the transfer so that Eve could exit.

Shepard knew that they should move quickly, in case more Cerberus troops decided to drop in, but she found herself sitting on the ground, putting her back to the desk that they’d been using for cover. She took off her helmet, placing it on the ground next to her, and put her face towards the sky and just concentrated on breathing and feeling sweat trickle down her temples. As soon as Cerberus started attacking, it had been nonstop running and fighting. She didn’t think that she was out of shape—that wasn’t why she was taking a breather. It had just been a long, frustrating battle so far. She only hoped that this was the end of it for the day.

Not only had they come in unprepared for a firefight, they had been flying blind without Specialist Traynor to feed them information on Cerberus’ movement. Needless to say, Shepard was livid with Joker for ordering a vital crewman to take a break while there was an active mission, but she was equally infuriated with Samantha for not reporting back to her duty station. Did she think that just because they’d had several friendly conversation that she could blatantly ignore an order from her Commanding Officer?

The sound of the shuttle landing pulled her out of her own headspace and looked towards the landing pad. Wrex was stepping out of the Kodiak and making his way towards the transfer unit’s loading bay.

Shepard was definitely going to have to reprimand both Joker and Samantha for their actions today, but that was going to have to wait—she still wasn’t finished with the mission at hand. She let out a frustrated and heavy sigh, and then stood, palming the top of her helmet. As she walked towards Wrex, she tucked the helmet under her arm.

Wrex saw her approaching and smiled. “Heh, you had me worried there for a minute. Gettin’ a bit rusty?”

Shepard shook her head. She was too exhausted to be in a humorous mood. “Let’s just make this quick and get out of here before more decide to converge on our location,” she responded flatly.

The doors to the transfer pod hissed, releasing the pressure and began to open. Mordin was suddenly next to the pod. Apparently Liara had made quick work of overriding the controls. Or maybe it had been EDI. Shepard smiled at that. _I’ll never have to worry about hacking with these two around._

Wrex then sidestepped Mordin, pushing him out of the way just as the doors finished opening. He extended his hand out and Eve began to exit the pod. Shepard raised an eyebrow. Was Wrex trying to act gentlemanly?

“Let’s get you out of there,” Wrex said gently.

Eve stared at his hand for a moment, but then took it. She made a labored breath as she descended the few steps from the pod to the loading area.

Then there was movement to their right as two Cerberus soldiers jettisoned up the side of the building. “There they are! It’s them! Move!”

Shepard dropped her helmet and flared her biotics, ready to biotically throw the soldiers. Her reserves were so low though, that she almost didn’t think she had enough energy to fire it off. But before she finished worrying about it, in a fluid motion Eve grabbed the shotgun from Wrex’s holster and shot both soldiers without missing either. Shepard dropped her biotics and looked from the bloody bodies to Eve, and simply blinked.

“I can handle myself, Wrex,” Eve said as she shoved the shotgun into Wrex’s hands, pushing him slightly.

Wrex shook his head and Eve walked past him towards the waiting Kodiak. “Women,” he muttered, turning to follow her.

Shepard smiled. She had a feeling that she was going to like Eve.

She noticed that EDI and Liara were now walking towards the Kodiak. Shepard nodded and then began walking that way too, until she heard a gurgling moan behind her. She turned around to see one of the Cerberus soldiers clutching his chest, twitching and coughing while more blooded pooled from his body.

Before she knew why, Shepard ground her teeth and then ran over to the dying man. She went to her knees, sliding into the man’s side and then grabbed hold of the armor’s collar.

“Why is Cerberus here?” she yelled down to the dying man. “What do you want?!” She shook him vigorously. The soldier was trying to speak, but just kept making gurgling noise. Shepard slammed his body into the floor. “Answer me!” His body went limp. Before she could stop herself, Shepard let off an angry growl that turned into a yell as she brought both biotically charged fists down on the dead man’s chest. The metal of his armor bent inward.

This whole day had gone to hell and it was all Cerberus’ fault. Why were they trying to divide humanity? What did they want with Eve? Did they want to destroy her? Or use her to do something similar to what Saren had been doing on Virmire? There were so many things happening in the galaxy that she couldn’t fathom the motives that the Illusive Man had for sending his troops here, or anywhere for that matter.

She could feel her arms shaking as her thoughts got angrier and angrier. She was about to hit the dead body again when she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder. Shepard snapped her head up to see who it was. And of course, it was Liara. She was tenderly touching Shepard’s armored shoulder and looking down at her. She looked worried.

Shepard looked down at the body again and then let out a heavy breath. Assaulting a dead body wasn’t going to help her with her anger, she knew that.

“Shepard, let’s get out of here,” Liara said softly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Shepard said bitterly. She stood and turned towards Liara. “I’ve had enough of this political bullshit for one day.” Shepard cringed—the way her words had come out made it sounds like she was mad at Liara. She locked eyes with Liara who still only looked worried. Shepard let out a sigh and then patted Liara on the arm. “Let’s go.”

Liara nodded and turned towards the Kodiak.

“Commander,” EDI said as she stood halfway boarding the Kodiak. “Joker is attempting to contact you.”

Shepard changed the frequency on her radio as she walked with Liara towards the Kodiak. “Joker?”

“You guys gotta boogie!” Joker said in a panic. “There’s a larger Cerberus ship that’s just entered atmo. We gotta get movin’. Like, now.”

“We’re on the Kodiak now and headed your way,” Shepard said as she hit the shuttle’s door button as she and Liara were the last to load in.

“I’ll have us to the Normandy in five minutes, Joker,” Steve said from his pilot’s chair.

“Make it snappy,” Joker responded. “I’m not interested in a space firefight with the people who built my baby. Who knows what sabotage they could do to her.”

“The modified firewalls that Communications Specialist Traynor installed are more than efficient to block any hacking attempts made on the ship,” EDI tried to reason.

Joker let out a harsh, singular laugh. “Is there anything Traynor can’t do if it deals with computers?”

EDI’s mech platform blinked twice. “I don’t have any data to formulate a response to that question, Jeff.”

“Enough,” Shepard butted in. Her tone then turned severe. “Joker. Once we’re safely out of atmo and away from Cerberus, I want you and Traynor to meet me in the war-room.”

Joker sighed. “Yeah, yeah. You can chew me out on the bridge, Commander. But Traynor won't be able to meet you for a while yet.”

“And what does Specialist Traynor have on her agenda that is more important than following a direct order from her Commanding Officer?” Shepard asked harshly.

“Well,” Joker started. “She’s currently unconscious in the med bay.”

Shepard’s heart felt like it stopped. “What?!”  

* * *

“How are you feeling,” Chakwas asked, running a scan at the recently roused Communication Specialist.

Samantha was just now sitting up. Her head was throbbing, even worse than before she’d hopped into the shower. She had been conscious for a few minutes now and Chakwas had already explained that she’d been found passed out in the bathroom. At first, Samantha had been mortified to be found naked. _In all the horror vids I’ve watched, it’s always the girl in the shower that’s caught off guard, isn’t it?_ she’d thought when Chakwas had told her. Her mortification only increased when Chakwas further explained that it had been Vega to carry her to the med bay.

“Alright, I suppose,” Samantha finally said. She wanted to rub the back of her head, but had already tried and found that it was pretty painful. _Apparently I smacked the floor pretty good,_ she thought.

When she’d woken up, Chakwas had already gotten a pair of sweatpants over Samantha’s lower half. Chakwas now handed her a plan grey zip up hoodie. “Here, I’ve finished the rest of my exam. I imagine Commander Shepard will probably be returning with the female krogans here shortly. So why don’t you cover up.”

“Thanks,” Samantha replied as she accepted the hoodie. Chakwas smiled and then moved to another table to move some supplies back to where they belonged. Samantha pulled the hoodie around her shoulders and was midway through zipping it up when the med bay doors opened suddenly.

Samantha had seen that Chakwas had locked the doors so no one could walk in unannounced, indicated by the holo on the door being yellow. The only person authorized to enter when that code was in place was the Commander. Samantha looked up to see a very flushed looking Commander Shepard trying to squeeze through the still opening doors.

“What happened?!” she demanded.

Samantha immediately felt heat in her cheeks and looked down into her lap as she finished zipping up the hoodie. _Now this is mortifying,_ she thought. _I don’t want Shepard to see me like this. Damn you, Moreau,_ she thought to herself. For no logical reason other than sheer spite, this was somehow Moreau’s fault.

“Commander,” Chakwas said, slightly surprised. “I wasn’t aware that you’d returned to the ship.” She paused. “Um, Commander… isn’t there a safety regulation regarding wearing shoes while walking about the ship?”

Samantha then looked up at Commander Shepard: she was wearing tight black spandex type clothing—similar to the clothing she’d been in when she’d returned from Grissom Academy with Jack and the students. But Shepard’s feet were socked, no shoes. She also looked out of breath—dirt stains on her neck and jawline.

 _She literally just got back,_ Traynor thought.

Shepard continued walking into the med bay—not asking if it was alright that she entered. She walked in a straight line towards the exam table that Samantha was sitting on. “Samantha, are you ok?” Samantha’s heart skipped—Shepard had never used her first name in front of other members of the crew. “What happened?” she asked. This time is was a little softer than when she’d barged into the med bay.

Samantha suddenly felt underdressed. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and she was too big in the chest for that to go unnoticed by anyone with a practiced eye. Out of nervousness, Samantha brought her arms up and wrapped them in front of her chest, both of her hands holding the opposite elbow. “Hi, Commander,” Samantha responded meekly.

Shepard reached the exam table, her lower body coming in contact with Samantha’s dangling legs. Shepard’s eyes were locked on Samantha’s head. Her left hand went up, gently touching Samantha’s cheek and moving her head to the side. Her right hand went to Samantha’s opposite shoulder, cupping delicately. “Samantha, what happened?” she almost whispered.

“I’m fine. R-really,” Samantha stammered. Samantha moved her right hand to timidly grab Shepard’s hand that was on her face. It was strange—normally when Shepard’s skin made contact with hers, she felt an almost uncomfortable electrical current—uncomfortable in the fashion that it was almost erotic, but that wasn’t the point. Now it felt like that pulse was muted, almost not even there.

Shepard didn’t try to move Samantha’s hand, but pulled her forward a little. Shepard then leaned in, looking at the side of Samantha’s head. “If you’re fine, then why do you have gauze wrapped around your head like a headband?” Shepard asked.

“Oh you know, just playing dress up,” Samantha responded with a smile. She then met Shepard’s eyes and then stopped smiling and diverted her eyes to her lap again. Shepard had been pursing her lips and her expression looked almost mad. Maybe disappointed? _No nonsense,_ Traynor finally agreed on. _What happened on Sur’Kesh?_

She felt Shepard’s body shift. She glanced up to see that the Commander was looking to Dr. Chakwas now.

“She’s alright, Commander,” Chakwas said as she returned to the table. “She was found passed out in the bathroom shower stall. She hit her head when she fell is all.”

 _Oh smashing,_ Traynor thought, bringing her hands down into her lap. _Did we really have to divulge that? I’m about to become the laughing stock of the entire crew._ She chewed on her lip. _Well… I did say I wanted to work on ship morale, didn’t I?_

Chakwas continued. “I believe she just hasn’t been eating enough, which caused the fainting spell. Her protein and iron levels were dangerously low. She also hasn’t been adequately sleeping for some time. Her body is physically exhausted.”

 _Great, so on top of being the girl who fainted in the bathroom, I am now the girl who can’t take care of herself. Peachy. Thanks Chakwas—I thought we Brits were going to stick together, but apparently not,_ Samantha thought and began fidgeting with her fingers.

It wasn’t that what Chakwas said wasn’t true. It was. Samantha had admitted it to her shortly after she woke up when Chakwas was trying to ascertain what had happened. The last time that Samantha had gotten any restful sleep had been before they’d evacuated Earth. And the eating… well that had been a problem since leaving Earth, too. She couldn’t recall her last actual meal. Just quick snacks she could grab when her stomach had demanded it.

“Does she have a concussion?” Shepard asked, still not moving her hands from Samantha.

“Her head scans are normal, Commander. Just a small cut. Maybe a bruise later. Nothing at all to worry about.”

“Alright. Thank you, Doctor. I would like a full report once she’s discharged and I’d like to be apprised of any medical orders she’s given so I can ensure they’re being followed.” Shepard said as she began to turn her body back towards Samantha. She then stopped, looking back to Chakwas. “Oh—and just a heads up: you’re about to have Mordin Solus and a female krogan make their way up here.”

“Oh. Just one?” Chakwas asked. Shepard nodded solemnly. Chakwas then smiled. “It’s good to hear we got her out,” she said and then flared her omni-tool and punched in a code. Small metal panes in the ceiling began to move. “This will provide some visual privacy.” She then turned and began to make the med bay ready for the arrival of the new party.

A glass partition started to move down from the ceiling, much like the mechanism in the women’s bathroom, Samantha realized. The partition was in a box shape, big enough to go around the bed and barely enough room for someone to walk around the exam table comfortably. As the opaque glass came down, Shepard moved her hands to rest on Samantha’s shoulders and then stepped closer to the table. She was already pressed against Samantha’s legs. Out of some kind of muscle memory, Samantha splayed her legs to make room for her Commanding officer to stand between them, which she promptly did.

The flush in Samantha’s cheek grew hotter. _Why did I do that?_ she panicked when she realized that her legs were now on either side of Shepard’s hips. _What’s wrong with me?_

Before she could continue thinking, Shepard’s personal scent permeated her nose. It was the same salty sweet aroma that she always smelled like. She was glad that she was already sitting, as the smell always made her knees buckle slightly.

Shepard watched the partition move until it clicked into place on the med bay floor. She then looked up and met Samantha’s eyes. “Why didn’t you mention any of this to me?” she asked quietly, her voice only for Samantha to hear.

Samantha swallowed and blinked nervously. She then looked down into her lap again and began to fidget more fervently with her fingers. “I’m fine. Honest.”

Samantha could feel Shepard staring at her. _Oh this is awful. Is she mad? Why is she speaking so quietly? Is she going to kick me off of the ship because I can’t handle myself?_ Samantha’s thoughts kept racing.

Shepard then squeezed her shoulder, causing her to look up again. “Samantha,” she said gently. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping?” Shepard asked more specifically.

She suddenly felt like she was a small child who had done something wrong. It was an awful feeling, especially since it was Shepard, the woman that she couldn’t get out of her head and the woman she was irrationally attracted to, who was the one making her feel that way. “I didn’t think it was important, Commander. I thought it was normal for someone like me getting used to living on an active war ship.” She chewed on her lip.

Shepard then sighed, moving her left hand up her shoulder and to Samantha’s neck. Her touch was so gentle it almost felt like she was imagining being touched. _She must think I’m fragile._

Then, Shepard’s hand curled under Samantha’s chin and pulled just a little to make Samantha look up and meet her eyes. Her expression had changed; it was now soft and concerned. “Sure, there’s an adjustment period—but not to the point where you have to go to the infirmary. You should have told me.”

Heat radiated in Samantha’s cheeks again. Shepard’s voice was still so soft and quiet. And Shepard was so physically close to her that she felt like this was all unreal or some hallucination. Their heads were only ten or so inches apart—which sounds far away, but in actuality, is fairly close. For a fraction of a second, Samantha considered leaning forward and kissing the red head in front of her with the soft, gentle green eyes. Had her touch been its usual electrifying self, she probably wouldn’t have been able to control herself. Luckily for her, she was able to fight off the urge. Or maybe unfortunately…

She looked down again, unable to take the look in Shepard’s face. “Like I said, I didn’t think it was an issue. I’m sorry, Commander.”

Shepard’s hand moved from Samantha’s chin back to the base of her neck, mirroring her other hand. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, I don’t think so, Commander. I should be fine. You have bigger things to worry about than my eating and sleeping patterns.”

“Oh hush,” Shepard teased, moving her hands off of Samantha to fall by her sides. “I’m allowed to worry about my friends.”

Samantha blinked, and then looked up. Shepard was smiling at her, similar to the smile she had on her face after sparing with Jack in the shuttle. It was playful. “Friends, Commander?”

Shepard shrugged. “I’d like to think so.” Her right hand moved overtop Samantha’s still fidgeting ones. “So don’t scare me like this. We just became friends and I can’t lose any of those right now. I need every single one that I have.”

She wanted to respond with something witty, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The look in the Spectre’s bright green eyes was now similar to the night when she’d asked Samantha to promise her not to let the war change her. She simply moved one of her hands up to hold Shepard’s, squeezing just a little.

“And, as your friend—you need to not work such long hours,” Shepard continued. Her expression then changed to a mocked seriousness. “And as your Commanding Officer, I’d prefer it if we kept the same hours, so situations like this don’t happen again. I was blind out there without you.”

Samantha’s stomach twisted. _She needed me down there? What happened?_ she thought. “I’m sorry, Commander. I won’t let it happe—”

Shepard smiled and shook her head. Her left hand came up and gently squeezed Samantha’s shoulder again. “Quit calling me **_Commander_** like you’re in trouble. Because you aren’t.” Shepard searched Samantha’s eyes for a long moment, leaning slightly closer to her. “I should have realized you were working on overdrive for the summit.”

Samantha’s urge to close the distance between them sparked again, causing her cheeks to flush. _I swear to the Enkindlers that if I don’t learn to control these damn cheeks, my every intention will be ousted to the entire Normandy crew,_ she thought.

“Just focus on feeling better for the next day or two,” Shepard continued. Whether she noticed Samantha’s newly pink tone or not wasn’t apparent. “Take some time off while we are flying to our next destination. I need you up and healthy! I can’t have my favorite Comms Specialist MIA.”

Samantha let herself laugh softly. _Favorite Comms Specialist, huh? I’m the_ **only** _Comms Specialist, Shepard. But thanks—good effort, that one,_ she thought _._ “Aye, aye, ma’am,” she said instead.  

“And you let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.” She let go of Samantha’s shoulder, but didn’t move the other hand that was still perched atop Samantha’s hands.

Samantha felt herself smile. “If I wasn’t so groggy, I’d have a witty come back for that.”

Shepard laughed. “Oh, I would expect nothing less.”

Suddenly, the swish of the med bay doors opening hissed through the room causing Shepard’s head to turn instinctively even though nothing could be seen through the opaque glass partition. There was a fast talking voice that was mumbling about temperature variants, a deeper, more gruff voice saying something about a pijack, and the sound of shuffling feet. 

“Mordin! So good to see you again,” Chakwas voice radiated into the now noisy room. “You too, Wrex.”

There was an exchange of greetings that Samantha couldn’t quite isolate, as they were all happening simultaneously. Shepard turned back to face her. “Well, I should get back to it.” She smiled while she gave Samantha’s hand one final squeeze and then began moving her hand away.

“Shepard,” Samantha found herself saying, clinging both of her hands to Shepard’s before she had moved too far. “There is one thing that I could use.” She chewed on her lip for a quick moment.

_What are you doing? This does not seem like you’re friendzoning your Commanding Officer, Traynor. What, what, what are you doing?_

_Shut it._

“Name it,” Shepard stopped moving away and looked genuinely interested to hear the request.

Samantha let out a slow breath. “I could… um… I could really use a hug.”

_You could use a hug?! What does she look like to you, some snuggly stuffed animal that you get to nuzzle you after a long day?_

“A hug?”

_See! She thinks you’re being ludicrous! Abort!_

Samantha nodded, ignoring her inner conscious.

A playful smile slowly spread onto the Commander’s lips. “I say anything you need—a new expensive toothbrush, a new QEC diagnostics program, chocolate… and you just want a hug?” she asked playfully.

“Well, those things sound nice, too,” Samantha admitted with a laugh. “Especially a new QEC diagnostics program. There’s one that the salarians liscen—”

She was cut off by the sudden feeling of Shepard’s torso against hers and Shepard’s strong arms pulling Samantha into her. There was a sudden wave of Shepard’s ever alluring scent that crashed into Samantha’s face as Shepard’s hair moved with the sudden stop.

 _Is she… actually… hugging me?_ she thought. The moment felt like several minutes, but in reality, it was just a few second before this clicked in Samantha’s head. Slowly, she moved her own arms around Shepard, letting them slide up Shepard’s back to then rest between her shoulder blades. As Samantha’s hands moved, Shepard’s embrace became tighter, and one of her hands moved up into Samantha hair—careful not to touch the injured side of her head—and pulled her head into Shepard’s neck. Samantha wasn’t expecting it, and her lips met Shepard’s exposed skin unexpectedly. Not in a kiss, but just contact from being moved.

The electric sensation of Shepard’s touch came back to life—still not as strong as the last time they were in contact, before deploying to the Summit, however. Samantha was suddenly very aware that there was no space between them as every skin particle of hers that was in contact with Shepard’s was now tingling at attention. Hyper aware. It was almost a sensory overload.

 _Oh no,_ she thought. _I’m going to moan or something equally embarrassing,_ she thought as the feeling began to overwhelm her.

_Abort! Friendzone mission failing! Abort now before you’re found out!_

Samantha was about to start pulling back when Shepard then moved her head, positioning her mouth next to Samantha’s ear. “Don’t ever scare me like this again, ok?” she whispered. “I need you.”

_Don’t abort. Repeat—Do No Abort. Do not abandon ship._

_She needs me?_

_How does she need you?_

_Does it matter?_

_You’re awful at this._

_So are you._

_Shut it._

She could feel the heat in her cheeks—a combination of the overwhelming amount of sensory overload and from what the Commander had just said. And how she’d said it. It was quiet. Almost husky. And only meant for Samantha to hear. _How do I respond to that? Tell her that I need her too?_

_That’d be too forward._

_And what she just did wasn’t?_

_It all goes back to how she meant it._

_Stop it._

_Stop what?_

“I’ll do my best, Shepard,” she finally said.

They stayed like this for a moment longer. Samantha kept her composure while the strong Spectre simply held her close. All of her hugs with Steve were usually quick and playful. It had been a long time since someone had hugged her so intimately. Not even Natalie, her ex, had hugged or held her like this before. She felt safe. Secure. Overwhelmed. Wanted. But the feeling that was above all those was happiness. The embarrassments of the day started to melt away as Shepard held on.

Samantha smiled into the crook of Shepard’s neck. Shepard then gave her one final squeeze and began to move away. “Now, remember—whatever Chakwas says goes.”

Shepard was now standing straight again and her arms were moving back to her sides.

“So,” Samantha started, her smile still playing on her lips. “If she says I have to parade around the CIC naked for twenty minutes a day…”

Shepard laughed, and her mouth ended in a smirk. “Hey—doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders.” She then winked at Samantha, who for once **_didn’t_** blush in response. She then nodded, patting Samantha’s thigh. “Feel better and take it easy for the time being. I’ll come and talk to you after the meetings I have to see how you’re doing.”

Samantha’s smile softened and she nodded. “Will do, Shepard.”

With a final nod, Shepard turned around and hit a button on the inside of the partition. A door in the glass box slid open and she stepped through it, sliding shut immediately after.

Samantha stared at the glass, wishing she could watch Shepard walk away.

“Sorry to run out on you two,” she heard Shepard say. “I had to check on my Communications Specialist to make sure she was alright.”

Samantha let the voices outside the partition turn into white noise as she then looked down at her hands. _She needs me,_ she kept thinking. _What did she mean by that?_

The door slid open again, this time revealing Doctor Chakwas walking in with something primed and ready in a syringe.

“How are you feeling?” Chakwas asked as the doors slide shut. Unlike Shepard, Chakwas stood to the side of Samantha instead of trying to stand between her legs.

“Better,” Samantha said. She then noticed that she was smiling widely. _Dammit, Shepard. You’ve turned me into a dopey teenager with a crush,_ she thought as she failed to wipe the expression from her lips.

“I’m glad to hear it. Now,” she said abruptly. “I want you to lie down. I want to keep you for observation for a few hours just to be safe. So I’m going to give you a sedative to help you get some sleep.”

“A sedative? Why?”

“Because Wrex isn’t known for being quiet,” Chakwas said.

“You aren’t going anywhere near my quad with anything sharp, Salarian!” the voice of this Wrex person boomed.

“I believe you are correct,” Samantha laughed softly.

“Lie back,” Chakwas said as she put a steadying hand on Samantha’s shoulder.

Samantha did as she was instructed, swinging her legs back up onto the exam table and then slowly lying back. Chawkas hands worked quickly, giving Samantha the injection and pulling the needle out before Samantha had even realized Chakwas had done anything. Chakwas then pulled a blanket from under the table and spread it over Samantha. It was strangely warm.

“After a few hours of sleep, I’ll discharge you. When you wake up, we’ll talk about how to avoid this in the future and some of the restrictions that I feel are necessary,” Chakwas said as she ran a quick scan on her omni-tool.

Samantha’s eyes began to feel heavy. _Damn that’s quick,_ she thought. “Sounds good. Commander Shepard said that whatever you say goes.” She smiled.

“Oh did she?” Chakwas asked, powering down her omni-tool and looking down at Samantha. “Maybe someday she’ll take her own advice.”

“What? Is the galaxy’s superhero afraid of needles?” Samantha joked.

Chakwas smiled. “Something like that.” She then patted Samantha’s arm and then exited the partitioned area to let Samantha sleep. Chakwas touch had been more matronly than how Shepard had touched Samantha.

Samantha let her eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. She pulled the blanket close up to her chin and then relaxed her body, letting out a long breath. She then smiled. _My hoodie smells like Shepard,_ she thought, and then drifted off to sleep.


	10. Elcor Information Fairies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, just a quick heads up, I changed a little bit of the timeline that I’d already established between Chakwas and Shepard in this chapter. In a previous chapter Chakwas had said that they would have an appointment the “day after next” and that doesn’t hold true (because it was more fun this way). Hopefully that doesn’t cause any confusion.

Shepard moved forward and wrapped her arms around Samantha while she was still talking. _Of course I’ll hug you,_ she thought. _I love hugs._

It was true—she and Ashley had hugged all of the time when they had served on the Normandy SR1 together. She could never quite figure out why, but she’d actually been fond of hugging people when she was a teenager. After she lost her parents and joined the military, however, the want to hug others had disappeared. Maybe it was how the military liked their soldiers—or maybe she just hadn’t felt close to anyone since leaving Mindoir. But Ashely had been the first person in over ten years that she’d hugged that wasn’t someone she was dating. After their mission with Saren together, she’d found that she began to hug a few more people here and there, but the number was still small. She’d hugged Joker once, in an effort to make him uncomfortable as punishment for a terribly timed joke he’d spouted off in front of Captain Anderson. She’d hugged Thane and Tali a few times. She’d tried to hug Grunt once, but that just ended up being a head-butt to the forehead that she hadn’t been expecting. She’d even hugged Liara after Benezia died, and on Illium, and after helping her take down the Shadow Broker.

Ashley had been the only other person in recent years that she’d hugged like she was now hugging Samantha, though. The only person she’d hugged because she’d wanted to and wasn’t trying to empathize or show sympathy. She pulled the honey skinned Comm Specialist as close to her as she could, her hand even going up into Samantha’s hair to pull her head into her neck. This was intimate. There was no room between them and she still wanted to be closer. The only way to get closer was to start removing clothing…

It had taken Samantha a moment, probably from shock, before she hugged back. Her hands were timid as they slid up the Spectre’s back to then rest around her shoulders. Both of their embraces were tight, slightly pulling the other into themselves.

Samantha’s body suddenly tensed, like something was wrong, but Shepard wasn’t ready to let go yet—she’d often thought of hugging the Comm Specialist in their last few interactions and now she’d finally been allowed to do so. There was no risk of someone walking in to see. No one to tattle off to the Alliance Command. It was just the two of them.

Shepard then turned her head, moving her mouth just below Samantha’s ear. “Don’t ever scare me like this again, ok?” she asked quietly. Quietly wasn’t even the right word. It was a whisper. Almost an intimate whisper. In another context, the words might have been harsh. But as they came out of Shepard’s mouth, they were insecure. Afraid. _You’ve just become a part of my life. I can’t lose you yet,_ she thought.

Ashely’s voice popped into her head. _Be honest with her._

“I need you,” she added in the same soft, whispered, insecure tone.

She could feel Samantha’s eyelashes suddenly start blinking against her neck. After a moment, her body relaxed a little and she tried to pull Shepard closer to her. “I’ll do my best, Shepard.” Her voice sounded just as quiet, just as insecure as Shepard thought hers sounded.

Shepard stood there for a moment longer, still not ready to let go. Here she could get the full smell of the vanilla, honey, tea like aroma that was Samantha. Here she could feel Samantha breath, her chest rising and falling with her own.

Maybe she was letting herself be too close. They’d only expressed their orientations to each other a dozen or so hours ago. But as soon as she heard Joker say that Samantha was unconscious in the med bay, Shepard panicked. She had thought that the crew had been attacked by some Cerberus sleeper agent on the ship and was now going to be in critical care like Ashley; or maybe that it meant that something was medically wrong with her and caused her to fall suddenly into a coma. She knew that thinking that way was irrational, but she hadn’t been able to rationally think it through. She just wanted to get to her. She hadn’t needed to tell Steve to go faster or anything—he had taken care of that on his own. Whether he was concerned about Samantha himself, or concerned about the approaching Cerberus ship, Shepard wasn’t sure.

She’d stripped off her armor while they flew from the STG base to the Normandy, and had barely let the Kodiak doors open before she began running towards the elevator doors. The only time she stopped running was while she was riding the elevator up, but she just bounced impatiently instead. When she ran through the med bay doors, there was such a feeling of relief to see Samantha up and conscious. Maybe that was why she was letting herself hold on for so long—her brain just needed to process that yes, she was alright, and that she hadn’t failed her.

She had felt so guilty for being mad at Samantha for not being at her duty station. She had been ready to write a formal reprimand for her and Joker as they were loading onto the Kodiak. But as soon as Joker revealed that Samantha had been found unconscious on the ship and was currently under the care of Dr. Chakwas, she regretted all the anger that she’d aimed at both of them. She still wasn’t happy with Joker for authorizing Samantha to leave her station—but that didn’t matter anymore, because he had definitely made the right judgment call.

Now she just needed to make sure that they worked the same hours but also to make sure that Samantha was getting the rest and breaks that she needed. Shepard was known for going for days without breaks or sleep until she dropped from exhaustion, but few other people were capable of that. Hell, she was hardly capable of it. But it was an unhealthy coping mechanism that she’d turned to after Elysium.

She didn’t know how long she stood there holding Samantha. She didn’t want to stop but knew that she needed to move to the next piece on her agenda. It was Wrex’s voice that radiated throughout the med bay that finally made her realize that she should get moving. “Now what are you doing, Salarian?”

Shepard smiled into Samantha’s hair, and then began to pull away. She still had a job to finish. She now knew that Samantha was okay and her mind was clear enough to move onto the next mission or meeting. “Now, remember,” she started as she stood straighter, feeling Samantha’s hands almost reluctantly release her and slide down her back again. “Whatever Chakwas says goes.”

Samantha smirked—usually a cue that she’s about to be snarky. “Soooo… if she says that I have to parade around the CIC naked for twenty minutes a day…” she trailed off.

Shepard laughed. “Hey—Doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders,” she smirked. She then placed her hand on Samantha’s thigh and rubbed slightly. “Feel better and take it easy for the time being,” she said. She then took her hand away and smiled to herself. She was going to have to watch her hands from now on. She couldn’t get too used to just reaching out and touching the Specialist or else she might slip up in front of the crew. “I’ll come and talk to you after my meetings to see how you’re doing.”

Samantha’s smile softened. She then nodded and said “Will do, Shepard.”

Shepard returned the nod and then turned around. If she didn’t make herself leave now, she’d end up sitting with Samantha and talking. Possibly for hours. She truly enjoyed speaking with Samantha and wanted to have one conversation where she didn’t turn inward to fight with the other voice in her head. So far she’d been good. So this was a small victory. Hopefully the first of many.

She smiled to herself and then pressed a button on the glass partition and walked out. Mordin and Wrex were standing on the other side of the room along the wall that was towards the center of the ship. Eve was sitting up on a table and Mordin was running some scan with his omni-tool.

“Sorry to run out like that on you two,” Shepard started as she made her way towards the small group. “I had to check on my Communications Specialist to make sure she was alright.”

“You were always the hands on type of Commander, Shepard,” Wrex laughed.

“Hands on?” she asked skeptically, coming to a stop at the foot of Eve’s bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakwas walk over to Samantha’s partitioned off exam table.

“Yeah—watching you and Ashley in the shuttle bay back when we were hunting Saren. I take it that’s a human thing?” he asked.

Shepard smiled. “It’s also a friend thing.”

“Oh yeah? The way you stripped off your armor and tore out of the Kodiak seemed like you were worried for more than just a friend there, Shepard.”

“Ah, Wrex, I’m hurt,” Shepard playfully retorted while simultaneously deflecting. “You don’t remember that I treat my entire crew like family? And after all those times I came running to cover your ass while bullets were flying at you.”

Wrex laughed, loud and very krogan like.

Mordin powered down his omni-tool and then abruptly looked to Shepard. “Shepard, need to synthesize a base antigen from female for cure. Also requires healthy male krogan tissue. Will need a sample.” 

Before Shepard could respond, Wrex jumped in. “You’re lookin’ at him.”

Mordin suddenly held up a scalpel and smiled. “Testicular tissue most viable.”

Shepard snorted when she saw the jaw dropped look of horror on Wrex’s face.

“You aren’t going anywhere near my quad with anything sharp, Salarian!”

Mordin just blinked, his somewhat creepy smile still across his face. Eve then quietly looked sideways at Wrex.

Wrex’s expression soured. “Dammit. Fine! Take what you need,” he conceded. “But I better still have the full set when you’re done. I’ll need it for all the babies that need making,” he laughed.  Moridin continued to creepily smile at him. “What? I’m sure as hell not dropping my pants while Shepard’s around.”

“Afraid I won’t be able to handle that much krogan?” Shepard asked sarcastically.

“Nah—I just don’t want it to turn into a competition. You’ve probably got the biggest quad in the galaxy for half the stunts you pull on a daily basis.”

Shepard laughed, her arms coming up over her stomach. After a moment, she said, “Well, at least you’re honest.”

Mordin put down the scalpel. “Will need you to stay aboard the Normandy for procedure. Will need to harvest several samples over time.”

Wrex glowered at him. “Ugh. Fine. Let’s hope the food aboard this ship has gotten better.”

Shepard then smiled, looking toward Eve. “Are you comfortable here, Eve?”

“Yes, Commander,” she said simply.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Aside from a cure for my people?” She paused, thinking for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Alright,” Shepard said, slightly rattled by the comment. “Well, if there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable, be sure to let Mordin, Dr. Chakwas, or myself know.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

The smile on Shepard’s face faltered a little. She had a feeling that Eve didn’t trust her, or at least was still skeptically forming her own opinions about her. She could respect Eve coming to her own conclusions and not just adopting what she’d been told, but she was hoping to build trust with her since in the end they were both trying to help each others’ species survivability.

The door to Samantha’s partition opened, causing Shepard to turn around. Chakwas was walking out and discarded something in a nearby incinerator bin.

“Commander, I know you’re busy,” Chakwas started as soon as she looked up to see Shepard. “But could I have a word before you head off?”

Shepard clenched her jaw. _Dammit,_ she thought. “Sure. Excuse me,” she said to the small party and walked with Chakwas towards her desk. “Is everything alright with Specialist Traynor?”

“Oh yes, Commander,” Chakwas said, leaning against her desk. She’d stopped and looked at Shepard, giving Shepard’s back to the krogans and salarian scientist. “I’ve given her a sedative to help her sleep for a few hours, but I’m confident she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Does she have any restrictions that I need to be aware of?”

“Not yet. I’ll assess that when she wakes up. But I wanted to talk to you about the appointment you missed,” Chakwas said matter-o-factly.

Shepard glowered. “Chakwas, I’ve been busy with the war summit.”

“I understand.”

“We finished the summit and headed straight for Sur’Kesh.”

“I know, Commander,” Chakwas said, putting a hand up to stop Shepard from continuing. “I wasn’t trying to reprimand you for missing it. I was simply going to ask when you wanted to reschedule it.”

“Oh,” Shepard said, her temper dissipating. She really didn’t like the idea of having to sit down and have a conversation with Chakwas about what was going through her mind. And she hadn’t planned on going to the appointment anyway, even if the mission to Sur’Kesh hadn’t happened. “Right, well,” she stalled. “Why don’t I have my meeting with the dignitaries and see what our next step is, and then I’ll get back to you.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Shepard nodded, and without really knowing what else to say, she turned to look at Wrex. He was watching Mordin as he started pulling out some kind of syringe.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“Blood sample needed to run test,” Mordin said simply as he made an adjustment, as if there were no other viable explanation for what he was doing. “Nothing invasive.”

“Enough, Wrex,” Eve warned.

Wrex frowned, but continued to watch everything that Mordin was doing.

“Wrex, meet me in the war room in a half an hour, will you?” Shepard finally said. “And make sure Victus is there, too. We need to plan our next move.”

Wrex looked up, raising a reptilian eyebrow. “Why not now?”

“Well, you have to have a sample taken and I could really use a shower. And maybe some real clothes.”

Wrex’s face fell. Mordin smiled. Eve simply shook her head.

Shepard smiled and then turned and walked out of the med bay. It was fun to watch Wrex squirm under Mordin’s joy of collecting scientific samples.

She padded out of the med bay and walked towards the elevator. Her socked feet made almost no noise on the metal floor. The area was devoid of any crewmembers—they were probably all at their stations since they were in FTL travel to put distance between them and Cerberus.

Just as she rounded the corner of the elevator shaft, the elevator doors opened and Steve walked out. He almost walked straight into Shepard.

“Oh, sorry Commander,” Steve said as he jolted, stopping abruptly so that he didn’t walk into her. “Didn’t see you there.”

“No worries.”

“I put your armor away for you. So if you go to look for it, it’s where it belongs.”

“Oh, thanks Steve. You didn’t have to do that.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He then tried to look around the corner of the elevator shaft. “Have you been in to see Sammy?”

“You call her Sammy?” Shepard laughed.

“Well, not to her face. She doesn’t like it. But I think it is cute, like her.”

Shepard smiled. _Cute maybe isn’t the right word, but okay,_ she thought. “I didn’t realize that you two were close.”

“We bonded while we were working on the retrofits together. We used to eat lunch everyday together and we’d spend a lot of down time together, too. She’s a close friend.”

Shepard didn’t have a hard time picturing that. It almost seemed like the obvious answer that the two were close, even if their personalities were fairly opposite. “I’ve been in to see her. I am just coming from the med bay now. She’s asleep at the moment, but Chakwas assured me that she is going to be fine.”

Steve nodded. “Well, I’m going to go sit with her, if that’s alright ma’am.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you asking permission?”

“Well, I technically have post op flight maintenance to run.”

Shepard smiled. “I don’t mind you putting off the post op flight maintenance to go sit with her. Maybe it will give you a break that you need.”

Steve frowned. “I take my breaks, ma’am.”

“I always see you working in your waking hours. If there’s one thing that this whole situation has brought to light is that we all need to be a bit more conscious of our mental needs,” she said. As soon as she said it she could picture Ashley’s face looking at her and saying _take your own damn advice, Skipper._ She ignored her imaginary rendering of Ashely and continued. “But just make sure it is okay with Chakwas. The med bay is a little crowded right now.”

Steve nodded. “Understood ma’am.” He then went into a salute and he excused himself.

Shepard returned the nod, nonverbally approving his dismissal and let him walk past her.

* * *

Shepard officially hated race politics. If there was a table she could flip, or a stack of boxes she could kick over, she would have. But there wasn’t anything except for some very heavy boxes containing spare electronic parts outside the conference room.

The bickering between the Victus and Wrex was at an all-time high. Wrex refused to move forward with helping Palaven until the genophage was cured, and he wouldn’t see reason or take into consideration of the quickly deteriorating galactic state. After a tense hour of heated conversation about it, Shepard finally called the truce and said that she had full faith in Mordin to complete the cure in a timely manner. She then made the mistake of posing the question of what to do in the meantime. Both had said they’d needed to speak to her privately about important missions that needed to be handled as soon as possible and refused to say another word in front of each other while they were in the conference room. Weren’t they aboard the Normandy to prove that they needed each other? Wasn’t that the point of all of this?

Had it simply stopped there, she wouldn’t have been so frustrated. But after speaking with both of them in the war room, her tolerance and patience level was at its maximum capacity. Victus asked her to assist the ninth platoon on Tuchanka for some super-secret mission that he was blatantly keeping her in the dark on any helpful specifics. And then Wrex insisted that the most important thing that needed to be handled while they waited for Mordin to finish the cure was to investigate rumors about rachni in the Attican Traverse. She’d tried to tell him that she didn’t have the time to spend on debunking or confirming rumors—especially rumors on the other side of the galaxy than their current objective—considering the entire galaxy was currently at war with the reapers but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

She didn’t want to do either mission. She wanted to throw her hands up and tell both of the dignitaries that the two of them needed to work together to accomplish their various missions while she continued her work on acquiring allies. But she knew that if she did that, she would probably lose all of the progress she’d made on acquiring the only two allies she had any leads with, since the batarians hated her, the salarians were apparently a no go, and the asari had been too busy to consider any alliances yet. There were still the volus, the elcor, the hanar, and she was still hoping to get a hold of Tali and the quarian fleet. She really didn’t have time to settle the pissing contest between the turians and krogans, but she was left with little choice.  

She reclined on the couch in her quarters. It had been eight hours since Shepard had left the med-bay and five hours since she’d left the war room. She’d busied herself with emails while she’d tried to think of her next plan of action. She’d already told Joker to set a course to the Attican Traverse to investigate the rachni. Even if it was just a rumor, if she was looking for them, it meant that the reapers were probably looking for them, too. And if the rachni were indeed alive and breeding, she needed to make sure that the reapers didn’t get a hold of them to start making any new reaper soldiers. The new turian reaper hybrids were hard enough to kill. She couldn’t imagine what the reapers would come up with if they had rachni soldiers, too.

She had stopped by the med bay to see Samantha when she’d left the war room. She had hoped that she’d be awake and she could talk to her so that she didn’t let her anger fester. But she had still been asleep and Steve had returned to the shuttle bay. So she’d retreated to her quarters and her anger festered.

Coffee that had long gone cold sat on her coffee table, next to several disregarded data pads. Before retreating to her quarters, she’d grabbed a cup of it to help her stay awake. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. The thought had crossed her mind, but she quickly became too wrapped up in her emails. And then she’d decided to call a meeting with her ground crew to discuss their next mission. She knew that she didn’t need to—that they could just drop into atmo and she could grab who she wanted and go and still get the mission done. But she wanted to explain why they were chasing rumors instead of immediately going to Tuchanka. She also wanted to bounce ideas off of them for game plans and discuss the other intel on Cerberus that Samantha had been slowly forwarding to her over the last few days. There were plenty of Cerberus sightings and reports. And after being so caught off guard on Sur’Kesh, Shepard wanted to return the favor. Although, she was intending on doing that after dealing with the present issues on Tuchanka, but it would give her and her ground team something to look forward to and something for her groundside team to strategize over while they had the flying time ahead of them.

One of the data pads had the conditions for Samantha’s work release and Shepard had made sure to read it several times to ensure she got everything she needed. Chakwas had cleared her to return to work, but said that she was not to work more than ten hours in a single solar day for the next week, and that she was to up her intake of protein substantially for the next three. Shepard had already told Samantha that she should take some down time, so the two day flight to the Attican Traverse would be the perfect time. Maybe everyone could get a little bit of R&R while they flew.

Suddenly, the notification light went off on her data pad, indicating she’d received a new email. As an automatic reaction, she opened it to see what it was. She still had ten or so minutes before she needed to be back in the war room. She frowned when saw it was a Cerberus intel email, forwarded by Samantha. _She’s supposed to be resting._

Without reading the email fully, she threw the data pad down on the couch and then stood. She plucked her hoodie off of the peg by the fish tank and put it on as she walked out of her quarters.

“EDI,” she asked as she hit the elevator button. “What is the current location of Specialist Traynor?”

“She is currently at her duty station in the CIC, Commander,” EDI responded immediately. “Would you like me to patch you through to her?”

“No thank you.” It was still weird being able to talk to her anywhere on the ship or talk to her in person. After running around Sur’Kesh with her, she was starting to think of the mech body as her, instead of the Normandy’s AI. It was a strange adjustment, but she enjoyed having the option of talking to a physical body instead of the ceiling. 

Shepard rode the elevator down to the CIC in silence. She decided to leave her hoodie unzipped, exposing the black N7 tshirt underneath that was tucked into her cargo pants. There was no need to dress fancy for her ground team.

The elevator doors opened and, as usual, Samantha was standing at her console. She was dressed in her uniform again and there was no longer a bandage on her head. Shepard let out a long sigh and walked up behind her. Samantha was engrossed in whatever it was that she was doing and didn’t hear Shepard’s booted foot falls.

Shepard went right up behind her and then, without touching Samantha, reached around her side and hit the power button to her vid screen. She had half a mind to power down her whole console, but she didn’t know what she was working on or what data she’d lose.

“What the bloody hell?!” Samantha exclaimed as she jumped and moved to the side, looking behind her. “Oh—Commander Shepard. Uh… hi.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at the now flustered Comm Specialist. “Didn’t I tell you to take some time off while we flew to our next destination?”

Samantha smiled nervously. “Did you say that? I thought I’d only imagined it,” she brought a nervous hand to the back of her neck and rubbed. “Head injury and being drugged and all, you know.”

Shepard pointedly blinked at her, straightening her posture and putting a little space between them. Not that she cared about how close they got to each other anymore, but they were in the middle of what looked like a crowded CIC. “Traynor—it wasn’t a drug induced hallucination. I told you to take some down time. And I meant it.”

“Well, I did,” she said. Shepard couldn’t help but notice a slight look of shock on Samantha’s face when she uttered her last name. “And now I’m rested and ready to get back to work.”

Shepard gave her a flat stare. “EDI, lock Specialist Traynor out of all systems until further notice.”

“What?! Shepard, come o—”

“Done. Do you require any further assistance?” EDI sounded overhead.

“No, that’s all EDI. Thank you.” Shepard said.

“Shepard, you’ve got to be kidding,” Samantha whined, glaring up at the ceiling for a moment. She looked back down to Shepard and frowned. “What am I supposed to do? We’re flying to the Attican Traverse. That’s nearly two days of flying.”

“You should relax. Make sure you eat. And not do work until we reach the Ninmah Cluster.”

Samantha took a step forward, getting closer to Shepard. “You do realize that intel gathering takes hours of time, right? There isn’t some elcor information fairy that I solicit to get it. I can’t get you any intel on where we’re going if I’m not allowed to work ahead of time.”

Shepard smiled, but didn’t back up. Instead, she took a step closer and stood a bit straighter. “And I need you when I’m on the ground to feed me that intel.” Shepard wasn’t angry. In fact, it was kind of funny to watch Samantha squirm and whine about not being able to work. But she wasn’t joking about needing her to take time off.

They were now standing fairly close to each other. Too close for it to be a professional conversation, but far away that it wasn’t intimate or truly invading each other’s space. But they could both reach out and touch each other without having to fully extend their arm if they wanted to.

Samantha held her ground and put her hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow at Shepard. “Do you honestly expect me to sit on my bum and do nothing?”

“Yes, actually. I do. You deserve a break. Actually, you need a break. And if you don’t, you’ll be breaking a direct order from your Commanding Officer.”

“OH—you! But—” Samantha let out a frustrated, grumbling sigh and let her arms fall to her sides. “ ** _Fi-ine_**.”

Shepard smiled. It was nice to be able to pull the CO card sometimes.

“But honestly, what am I supposed to do?” she asked, her face looking a little more serious.

Shepard shrugged. “I don’t know. Read? There are books in the observatory longue. Maybe play a few games of Skillian Five with some of the other crewmembers.”

Samantha laughed. “Anyone who is good at basic arithmetic can cheat that game so effortlessly that it’s hardly any fun to play.”

Shepard eyed her. “I take it that you’d be the one cheating the others out?”

Samantha shrugged. “Well, I am **_pretty good_** at arithmetic.” She smiled.

Shepard laughed. “Alright, well then write an email to someone in your family.”

“But you just locked me out of all the systems, Shepard,” Samantha said, giving Shepard another frown.

Shepard chuckled. “That I did. EDI—allow Traynor access to the extranet, but block access anything work related and only filter in non-work related emails.”

“Understood.”

“Sometimes I hate that EDI is such a good AI,” Samantha further pouted, glancing at the bridge this time.

Shepard smiled, and then moved a hand out and cupped the outside of Samantha’s left arm. “Take the break, Samantha,” she said quietly.

Samantha’s eyes shot back and locked with Shepard’s. A rosy hue immediately started to surface in Samantha’s cheeks. Maybe it was the touching. Maybe it was how quiet Shepard’s voice had gotten. Maybe it was the use of her first name. She wasn’t sure. But the blushing Specialist always made Shepard smile wider.

“Alight. Well, why don’t we play that game of chess?” Samantha asked, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.

Shepard sighed and then slightly rubbed Samantha’s arm. “Another time. I’ve got a tactical meeting that I’m actually headed to right now.”

Samantha pouted again, looking away from Shepard.

Strangely, Shepard’s first reaction was to move her hand to Samantha’s chin to make her look back at her and then kiss her, but she refrained from doing so. _Why do I suddenly think that this is how our friendship is?_ _That all this physical contact is suddenly the norm for us?_ she thought as she watched Samantha look like she was thinking of something.

Liara and James suddenly exited the elevator and made a right towards the war room door. Shepard looked up to see that EDI was walking down the CIC towards the same direction. Shepard let out a long breath and then smiled to Samantha. She would have to figure out what this all meant later. “Go relax. You’ll figure out something fun to do.”  She squeezed Samantha’s arm and then let her hand fall back down to her side.

“Alright,” she said playfully. “I’ll do some research on elcor intel fairies. Maybe they really do exist.” She smiled.

Shepard laughed quietly, returning the smile. “You do that,” and she winked as she started walking towards the war room.

* * *

It had been two hours since Shepard had locked Samantha out of the alliance systems and it had been two long, dreadfully boring hours at that. She’d tried to go down to the shuttle bay to talk with Steve, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen and neither was James. Both were apparently at the tactical meeting that Shepard had called.

_I could be at a tactical meeting,_ she thought as she closed out of an email to her parents. _I mean, I manage the incoming intel. Why_ **wouldn’t** _I be at a tactical meeting?_ She outwardly pouted again, moving her data pad to her lap.

She’d tried writing her parents and telling them everything that had happened, but kept going back and clearing the message text. Nothing ever sounded quite right—it was either too happy, sunshine and rainbow unicorn vomit, or it was too doom and gloom reaper depressant. If she had sent either message, her parents would have caught on that something was amiss, and she didn’t want to chance worrying them about her. The message she finally sent was short, non informational, but enough to let them know that she was ok. _No need to let them know I’m the ship’s laughing stalk and could quite possibly be replaced by a voluptuous AI,_ she had thought bitterly as she finally pressed the send button before she could fuss over it anymore.

In most of the previous drafts, she’d mentioned Commander Shepard and then the emails quickly dove into diary territory that she then promptly cleared the screen of. In the message that she did end up sending, she simply stated “working under Commander Shepard is a privilege and I’m honored to have met her and to work alongside her,” and left it at that before it went into any gray area about feelings for the illustrious Commander, or how confused she was about the whole…

_Whole what?_ she thought, reclining in her seat. _Relationship? Fat chance. Awkward situation, more like. With all the mixed messages that a human could possibly send. Maybe even some asari and hanar ones thrown in for good measure._

Letting out a long exhale, she looked out at the passing stars through the observatory window. If this were any other situation, that being a non-alliance ship during a non-war time and her not serving under Shepard directly, Samantha was convinced that she would have caved already and would have made a pass at Shepard by this point.

_Oh who am I kidding?_ she thought as she looked away from the window towards the bookshelf in the corner. _I would be too enamored to get a single word out. She is **the** Commander Shepard, after all. _ And then she shook her head. _But if serving under her has taught me anything, it is that she is just as human as the rest of us._

_Yup—no caped superhero, that one._

_Well… she’s still a bloody hero._

_Emphasis on the bloody._

_Oh shut it._

Her reflection smirked back at her against the tall observation window, but it also showed just how tired she looked. She took in a deep breath and then stood, walking closer to the window to get a better look at her reflection. It wasn’t as telling as looking into a mirror, but the vast galaxy outside was dark enough to provide an almost mirror like reflection. The Specialist starring back at her looked exhausted, despite the hours of medically induced sleep she’d had earlier. There were the beginnings of small dark circles under her eyes, her hair look unkempt in the loose messy pony tail she had pulled it back into after leaving the CIC.

She brought her hand up and pulled the band out of her hair, letting it fall freely around her shoulders and then ran her fingers through the top of her hair. “Maybe I should try and take a nap,” she said aloud to herself, as she was the only one in the observatory room. Even though Chakwas had given her a sedative and she’d slept for several hours, she still felt a little tired. She was thankful that her head wasn’t pounding any more. Whatever Chakwas had given her had finally numbed the migraine she’d been fending off for the last few days.

_Or maybe that was the fainting._

_Or the actual sleep._

_Or being pumped full of vitamins._

She ran her fingers through her hair again, still undecided of what to do next. _I could take a real shower, I suppose… since I never actually got to that,_ she thought as she rolled a section of her hair between her fingers.

She hated the whole sitting around and not doing anything business. She worked as hard as she did for a few reasons. One was to keep her mind off of the fact that the galaxy was in a dire state of war against an army of deep space squid-like juggernauts. Well—she was reminded every day by the fact that they were at war, but focusing on the little bits of intel made it harder for her to focus on the grand scheme of things. Busy work meant a busy brain which meant less time to worry about a complete annihilation of the human species. Second—the work was challenging which kept her mind active and on point. By sitting at staring at a pointless email to her parents that was bound to worry them no matter what she wrote or sitting and looking out the observatory window felt like a giant waste of time. And her brain was a dangerous thing to be left to its own devices and boredom. It was of more use to the ship than that—to the **_entire_** war effort than that.

She laughed inwardly to herself.

_Right—because the fainting Communications Specialist is the only one in the galaxy that can do what I do._

_Don’t kid yourself, Traynor._  

Before she had a chance to figure out what her next plan in her boredom was going to be, the sliding doors to the observatory room hissed open. Samantha didn’t have to see it in the mirror like window, she could hear it. But she was surprised to see James’ broad figure walk through the doors holding two bowls of something in either hand.

“Hey Chiquita. Esteban told me to check on you while we take a break. So I made you some of my eggs.”

_He just never gives up on getting people to eat those eggs of his, does he? I wonder if they are secretly laced with some sort of aphrodisiac,_ Samantha chuckled inwardly as she watched him walk towards her. “Steve told you to make me eggs?”

“Well, no,” he started, holding the bowl out for Samantha to take. “He asked me to check on you and told me to remind you to eat something with protein in it. He said he’d do it himself but he has some post op flight maintenance that he still has to do. So I just took it upon myself to make you some food.”

Samantha took the bowl and looked down into the steaming pile of egg bits that James had glopped into it. There were chucks of some kind of meat, something that resembled corn, and some diced up pieces of a mysterious green vegetable type thing. “Er, thanks, James.”

“Anytime, Chiquita.” James nodded and then moved to sit on the couch that was perpendicular to the observatory window, apparently not interested in looking at the view while he ate.

Looking down to the bowl again, Samantha’s stomach gave a small lurch. _It is_ **real** _food at least,_ she thought as she looked down. It wasn’t some meal bar, which seemed to be the only thing she’d been eating since they’d left Earth. Even when she’d had the chance to go to the Citadel, she’d always forgotten to grab a bite to eat of something with more substance than chewy ground up protein powder and oats.

She sat down on the same couch as James, leaving two cushions between them. James had already started eating and seemed to be relatively hungry by how he was shoveling the food into his mouth. Or maybe that was just how he ate in general. Samantha didn’t know as she’d never sat down to eat with him before.

“C’mon, gotta eat ‘em while they’re still warm,” he said with his mouth full.

“It kind of looks like food you’d eat when you’re hung over,” she said, poking a few bits with the spoon that James had tossed into the bowl.

“Hey, when you’ve been to as many fiestas as I have, it’s only natural for your food to turn into beautiful hang-over food.”

“No offense, but this looks like vomit.”

“Hey—there’s something beautiful in that too, no?”

“Er, I’m going to go with a resounding **no** on that one.”

James shoveled another bite into his mouth. “What—you’re telling me you’re not into that type of art?”

“What, the kind they use to sell in the early twenty first century where people would literally put shite in a box, frame it, call it a master piece, and demand a million credits for it?”

He nodded, putting another shovel of egg into his mouth without having swallowed the previous bite.

“Can’t say I fancy it, no. I mean, you could try and vomit onto a white piece of paper and try and sell it, I suppose. But I wouldn’t be the one buying it.”

James swallowed loudly. “Man, in my boot camp days, I would have made a killing if throwing up made money.”

“Oh? Were the fitness requirements too much for you?” Samantha teased, taking a dainty bite of her eggs and winking at him. The eggs were actually pretty good: a little salty, a little spicy, but very creamy. She smiled and then proceeded to take a larger bite from the bowl.

This caused James to smile and put his empty bowl on the floor. Apparently chewing was above his pay grade. As he sat back upright, he brought his arms in to flex his biceps and pectoral muscles to their fullest glory. “Please. I can handle any amount of physical exertion. These babies aren’t just for show.”

Samantha chuckled. _His biceps are probably bigger than a newborn baby, that’s for sure,_ she thought. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Vega chuckled and then relaxed into the couch, putting one of his massive arms along the back. “Naw, I just partied way too much while I was at basic, you know? I was in a new town on Earth, which meant new ladies, which ended up being a lot of late nights for me.” He winked.

“You, a ladies man? I would have never guessed,” Samantha teased after she swallowed another bite of her meal. She was starting to regret that she’d turned down his offer before.

“Hey hey hey, I’m on the straight and narrow now. Shameless flirting is always enjoyable, even if I don’t actually mean anything by it. But the only lady in my life is the Alliance.”

“You do realize how homosexual that sounds, right?”

“Hey I’m good with it.” He smiled, showing his teeth and causing the scar across his lower lip and chin to distort slightly.

Samantha chuckled softly as she took another bite of the hang over eggs—which were turning out to be something that she’d gladly eat anytime, whether the residual presence of alcohol was in her system or not. It was light-years better than any of the meal bars she’d been surviving off of.

“Hey, could I be serious with you for a second?” James asked suddenly.

Samantha blinked. “Do we have to?” she asked playfully, afraid that she was going to be scolded for recent events.

“Well, I could say how overjoyed I was about having to carry your wet naked body from the showers to the med bay, if you’d rather.”

Samantha coughed on an egg bit that she hadn’t quite chewed. “You what?!”

“Which part was confusing, Chiquita?” He grinned.

“You carried my stark naked body to the med bay?”

He nodded. “Passed the mess hall while most the crew was eating, too.”

She looked at him, her spoon clattering down into her bowl. “You’re joking, right?” James shook his head, still smiling. She took in a deep breath and then started moving her bowl to the side. “Well excuse me. I believe I need to go and throw myself out the airlock.”

James laughed, full and boisterous. “No need, Chiquita. Chakwas had wrapped you in a towel.”

“Well that makes me feel **_loads_** better,” she said, taking a large spoonful of egg and attempted to eat it while pouting.

“Naw—I just… we’re all a bit worried about you. You work your ass off. Well, figuratively. You’ve probably got the nicest ass on the ship.”

Samantha blinked at him, still chewing. _Has he never looked at Shepard’s ass? I mean really… he can’t count her out._

“But we all see how hard you work and seeing what happened to you was a bit scary.”

“And seeing reaper ground troops every time we land anywhere that isn’t the Citadel isn’t scary?” she retorted after swallowing.

James waved his hand at her dismissively. “Not at all. I know how to handle that. I just gotta kill it, you know? But watching a crewmate go through what happened to you… there’s no preparing yourself for that. And unless you’re a trained in medical procedures, there is no way to know how to handle that type of situation.”

She looked down into her lap and inadvertently into her bowl of eggs. She was about half way through it. “I never meant to worry anyone, James.”

“And Esteban is worried sick about you. He put off post op flight duty to sit with you while you were in the med bay.”

“He did?”

James nodded, “Yeah. That’s why he’s doing it now.”

“I had no idea. No one told me who came and went while I was asleep,” she said as she pushed around a few bits of egg with her spoon.

“It just got me thinkin’, you know, that if this sort of thing can happen to you, it could happen to anyone.”

Samantha blinked and then looked up to meet James’ eyes, her eyebrow raised. “Who are you worried about?”

“Esteban. The man never takes any R&R,” James said, moving his arm from the back of the couch to cross over his chest with his other arm. “When he went to go and sit with you that was the first time I’ve ever seen him not working on that damn Kodiak.”

“Steve’s been like that since I’ve known him. I think it has a lot to do with losing Robert.”

“I get that. And boy does that suck. No body deserves that kind of heartache—especially such a good guy like Esteban.”

“Awe, does Lesbian Boobs Vega have a crush on Steve?” Samantha winked and then took a small bite of food.

James laughed. “Hey, like I told him: if I ever wanted the dick, he’d be the guy I’d ask.” He smiled, but then stopped and looked quite serious for a second. “But seriously, Sam. He works himself to the bone. I wish Shepard would tell him to take some R&R.”

“Have you told Shepard that he should?”

James shrugged. “I was kind of hoping you’d tell her.”

She was in the middle of bringing another spoonful of food to her lips but stopped and looked at James, another eyebrow raised. “Wait, what?”

“You two are close, no?”

“Err,” Samantha sputtered. “What makes you think that?”

“Just the way she reacted to finding out that you were in the med bay. And from what Esteban told me, she went from being ready to reprimand you and Joker to looking like an over worried… shit, what was the word… partner?”

Samantha felt her cheeks flush and her mouth open slightly. _Like an over worried partner?_

_Stop it._

_No. If Steve said it then—_

_It’s gossip, Traynor. Calm your tits._

_But—_

_No. Eat your damn eggs._

_Fine!_

She swallowed and tried to correct the look of surprise on her face. “Well, I met her the day that we left Earth and we’ve only talked a handful of times. Haven’t you been serving under her since she was stationed back on Earth?”

James let out a harsh singular laugh. “You mean when she was under house arrest and I was assigned to check up on her every couple o’ hours?”

“Right,” she forced herself to take another bit of food so she didn’t say anything incriminating. “That.”

“Sure, the Commander and I know each other. But we’re soldiers. And I’ve ruffled her feathers enough as it is. I don’t think she’d appreciate me telling her how to enforce crew R&R time.”

“So you’d rather I did?”

“That’s not what I’m sayi—”

“Lieutenant Vega,” EDI’s synthetic voice came through from the speakers in the ceiling. “Commander Shepard has recalled all of her ground team back to the war conference room to resume the meeting.”

“She finally done talking with Hackett?” James asked, moving his hands to his knees as he prepared to stand.

“That is correct.” EDI responded.

“Alright. I’m comin’.” He looked sideways at Samantha. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re looking better. I’ll see ya around.” And with that he stood, taking his bowl from where he’d placed it on the floor and walked out of the room.

Samantha sat there for a few moments, finishing the last few bites of food as she mulled over things in her head. _Why would Steve say that to James? Is he_ **trying** _to instigate rumors?_

_He was probably just calling it like he saw it. He’s an observant guy._

_Doesn’t mean he has to spout it off to people._

_It wasn’t out of maliciousness, you know that. Vega and Cortez work in close quarters. They’re bound to talk about the day to day things. Especially if Cortez skipped doing post op flight maintenance to go sit with you while your ass was unconscious. Vega probably had questions._

_Oh bugger off with your logic._

Samantha leaned her head back on the back of the couch and then sighed. _This ship feels like secondary school all over again._ She moved the now empty bowl to the side, resting it on the couch by her leg and stared up at the ceiling.

What Steve said didn’t really matter. And what James had said had simply caught her off guard. But Samantha was a part of Shepard’s team, even if she only stayed ship side. Maybe Steve had misread what looked like concern for something more akin to what Liara had told her. Shepard treats her crew like family. Right?

_Do families hug the way that you two hugged in the med bay?_

_Shut it!_ she thought suddenly, moving to stand and grabbing her bowl. She refused to spend her mandated R &R sitting and dwellings on the what ifs and mixed signals of her Commanding Officer. It was more stressful than any assignment she’d been given or taken while serving on the Normandy.

She made her way to the mess hall and took a few minutes to clean her bowl and spoon and put it away. The nap that she’d thought of earlier was sounding like a solid plan of action. Hopefully the crew quarters would be fairly vacant and she’d be allowed to sleep in peace without having to answer any questions about how she was feeling. Or advert anyone’s eyes because of apparently being paraded through the mess hall in front of a substantial part of the crew in nothing but a towel.

_Why did James have to tell me that?_ she thought as she walked towards the crew quarters. _I would have been none the wiser if he’d never said a word. And then every time someone looked at me, I wouldn’t have to wonder what they were really seeing or thinking about._

She shook her head as the doors slid open to the crew quarters.

“I can’t imagine anything so traumatic,” she could hear Engineer Adams say. Samantha looked up to see him and Dr. Chakwas sitting at a table, idly chatting. “Are you sure you’re okay, Karin?”

“I wouldn’t wish a collector abduction on my worst enemy, but it’s behind me now,” Chakwas responded very matter-o-factly.

Samantha froze. This was not a conversation she wanted to hear.

“I’m fine. But it makes me think of Earth, and all the other Reaper-occupied worlds. What are the Reapers doing to the people who live on all those worlds?” Chakwas asked, her voice started to go slightly hysterical.

_Shit. Shit shit shit,_ Samantha thought.

“As we sit here enjoying our coffee, how many souls are in agony this very moment? Millions? Billions?” Chakwas voice finally cracked. “Oh, Greg… I lied! I’m not fine.”

Samantha turned on her heel and left the crew quarters before the doors had a chance to close. It wasn’t that she was being insensitive towards Dr. Chakwas. Having lived through almost being abducted herself, it was a conversation she couldn’t bring herself to listen to or try to console Dr. Chakwas on. She made her way to the elevator and then pressed level 5 to go to engineering.

No one here knew she’d been on Horizon the day that Shepard and the Cerberus team came and saved part of the colony. Dr. Chakwas might have seen a medical leave authorization in her file, but she was told that it was going to remain vague medical file, as the Alliance officials didn’t particularly want knowledge of Alliance soldiers being affected by Collectors to be public knowledge. Samantha hadn’t suffered from full force PTSD, but she’d gone through a rather tough period of flash backs and night terrors for a few months after the incident. She’d only been back at the R&D lab for maybe two weeks before she got the call to come to Earth and oversee the retrofits of the Normandy’s communications.

It wasn’t a period of her Alliance career that she liked to reflect on. For the most part, she’d healed from the emotional and mental damage that the encounter had caused, but that didn’t mean she’d ever willingly talk about it in idle conversation with someone. She never wanted to chance having those night terrors to ever come back and haunt her while she slept.

She stepped off of the elevator and made a left to go through the doors to engineering. Instead of continuing through the doors, she took the stairs by the door and descended down. She’d discovered this area of the ship while they were back on Earth when she was tracing a few cables through the ship that had been spliced somewhere. Later someone pointed out that a hamster had been found and had chewed through several cables and sensitive wires. Thankfully it was early on in the retrofits and the damage was minimal and quite reparable. The hamster, who someone had ingeniously decided to name Chewy, was found a new home in the crew quarters, where each crew member still plays with him when they’ve got downtime.

Samantha didn’t mind him much, but she was always worried when people handled him outside of his cage that he’d make a run for it and that her precious cables would be jeopardized again.

The area was small, like a large alcove made for easier access to the mass effect warp coil. The mass effect core that powered the ship was one of the few things that the Alliance hadn’t made too many changes to, as it was one of the few things that Cerberus had actually improved upon in the ship design. Now the area seemed more like a discarded tote storage space. Every time she’d come down here, more and more totes were stacked in various piles. There were at least three stacks of totes on the ground now, all tall enough for Samantha to sit down behind and never be seen.

The cot that she’d noticed her first time here was still there, which was why she’d come down. The cot had a few empty totes on it that she had an easy enough time moving and putting on the floor at the head of the cot. If anyone were to come down the stairs from the left, she’d be obstructed from their view. It was the perfect little cubby to take a nap.

Happy with her makeshift sleeping arrangements, Samantha lied down on the cot and tried to get comfortable. Thankfully, the cot wasn’t rusted or too old and didn’t make any god awful metal squealing noises, just a few noises from the shifting pressure but they were easily drowned out by the mass effect core whirling above.  

The whirling of ship’s engine working while they were in FTL travel wasn’t too loud. It wasn’t quiet, by any means, but it wasn’t a noise that was going to give her a headache either. It had its own rhythm to it, almost instantly calming Samantha’s mind as she moved her hands to rest behind her head. She quickly forgot about the conversation she’d walked in on in the crew quarters and stared up at the ceiling.

* * *

“I see you’ve found my hidey hole.”

Samantha woke with a start, sitting upright immediately and planting her feet on the ground at the sound of her Commanding Officer. It was a habit that she’d picked up at basic whenever the drill sergeants would decide to give the new recruits midnight bathroom detail. She almost went into a salute before she realized that Shepard was quietly laughing at her.

“Shepard… what are you… I’m sorry. I can find another spot to be if you need me to!”

Shepard laughed again. “There’s no need. It wouldn’t be fair for me to kick you out of a perfectly good quiet spot, especially since I have an entire cabin to myself. If I start claiming other spots on the ship, I’d wager I’d have a small mutiny on my hands.”

Samantha laughed softly, but then blinked hard. “Wait… shouldn’t you be in a meeting?”

Shepard smiled and then moved forward, sitting directly next to Samantha on the cot. “I told everyone to take a breather for a while. You can only talk tactics for so long before people start to regurgitate already vetoed ideas.”

“I see,” Samantha responded quietly. She blinked several times, still trying to wake up from her nap. _How long was I asleep?_ she thought. But she was more concerned with how close Shepard was to her. Shepard had sat down directly next to her, their thighs touching, even though there was plenty of room on the cot for there to be some space between them.

_Maybe she’s just tired and didn’t realize how close she was sitting… and moving away might look offensive?_

_Traynor..._

_Right. Stop analyzing. Rodger._

Shepard leaned back towards the wall, putting her hands behind her head and relaxing into her position, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.

“So, what brings you down here, Commander?”

Shepard opened an eye and looked sideways at the confused Specialist. “I used to come down here all the time with Jack. When I was working with Cerberus people avoided it because they were all scared of encroaching on Jack’s territory.”

“Wait… the teacher you rescued and then sparred with a few days ago?”

Shepard nodded. “That’s the one.”

Samantha recalled the woman. She’d been covered in tattoos and seemed to have a fairly confrontational personality. Especially after she’d broken James’ nose. But she hadn’t come off as **_unreasonably_** hostile or volatile. “The Cerberus crew was afraid of her?”

Shepard laughed. “Oh yeah. Jack’s demeanor and personality have simmered way down from the first time I met her. Hell, I sprung her from jail and all the inmates there were terrified of her—and they were some of the worst criminals in the galaxy.”

Samantha’s eyes went wide. “You don’t say…”

Shepard smiled and then moved one of her hands to clap Samantha’s shoulder gently. “Jack’s had a hard life and she’s been known to be kind of a psychotic bitch... But she’s come out of it okay in the end and is one of my closest friends.” She let her hand fall, resting on her leg, but the back of her hand was touching Samantha’s leg. “I remember it was maybe the second or third time I came down here to talk to her… we were talking and I was just trying to understand what made her tick. And, in all honesty, I was trying to figure out if she was stable enough to take out on missions. But she was so defensive about everything. She was convinced that I wanted something from her. She couldn’t fathom the idea that I wanted her on my crew simply because of her biotic ability. She thought I wanted something personally from her or that it was my intention to screw her over somehow.”

“She sounds like a pretty guarded person,” was all Samantha could think to say. She was slightly confused by where the conversation had gone. Not only was Shepard’s hand inadvertently resting against her thigh, providing the electrical feeling radiating through her pants and onto her skin, but she was idly talking about something with little provocation.

“Oh you have no idea. You think I’m good at deflecting questions? Try playing twenty questions with Jack. It’s a lot of _mind your own fucking business_ and _you have no idea about my goddamn history,_ and a plethora of _fuck you_ ’s for responses.” Shepard smiled and then moved her hand that was still behind her head to run overtop her hair, even though it was pulled back into a low sitting pony tail.

“Then how’d you become so close?”

Shepard laughed. “She punched me after I convinced her to spare someone’s life.”

“I’ll admit… that’s not usually how two people become close friends.”

Shepard chuckled this time. “It’s just Jack’s style. I came down here after we got back from our mission to see how she was faring. She yelled at me about feelings and feeling weak because she let the guy live. I tried to tell her she’d done the right thing, and she popped up, right off of this very cot we’re sitting on and yelled _stop being such a positive pussy little bitch_ and hit me square in the jaw. Before she had a chance to hit me again, I made a point of showing her that I’d come down with a bottle of Turian whiskey. She grabbed it, took a swig and then handed it to me to have some.”

“And just like that, you two were friends?”

“Pretty much.”

“A punch to the jaw and sharing some expensive liquor. I’ll have to try that someday.”

Shepard laughed again. “And who would you have a hard time making friends with? You’re plenty easy to get along with!”

Samantha smiled. “Am I to be flattered, ma’am?”

Shepard shrugged. “Take it how you please. I know **_I_** enjoy talking with you.”

“Likewise, Shepard.”

There was a long moment of silence between them. Shepard sat there looking at Samantha, still smiling, and Samantha was doing everything in her power not to have her cheeks flush in a bright shade of red. _What the devil is happening here,_ she thought nervously. _Maybe what Steve saw was a similar expression to a worried partner. Is that what this is?_

_You’d think you’d have a definite answer to that, Traynor? You’re both adult women. You could always ask._

_Oh heavens no! What if I’m imagining it? What if she’s treating me like every other crewmember who has thought Shepard was in love with them and then ruin the whole thing?!_

_Then maybe, oh I don’t know, STOP WORRYING ABOUT IT?_

_Shut it._

She almost brought her hands together to start fidgeting with her fingers but didn’t. If the feeling of Shepard’s hand resting against her thigh was as intense as it was to be felt through clothing, surely her grabbing her hands to stop her incessant fidgeting would have been too much. And every time Samantha had started fidgeting, Shepard had almost always put a hand on hers to get her to stop. She didn’t mind the touching. Not in the least. But it was that electric pulse that went from Shepard into Samantha’s skin whenever their skin connected. Although, for most of the time they were in the med bay, Samantha hadn’t felt it.

_I wonder what causes that feeling..._

_Well, what was different about this interaction with her?_

_Uh… I’d just been unconscious. And possibly pumped full of drugs._

_And what was different about Shepard?_

_She’d just come back from a mission. But I’ve talked to her after missions before._

_Directly after coming back from a mission?_

_Er…maybe not._

_So…?_

_Wait… you don’t mean to assume it has anything to do with her stamina, do you?_

_Not exactly what we were going for, Traynor. But have fun thinking about her stamina. I’ll wait._

Samantha made herself blush. _Dammit._

“I’m glad to see that you caught some more sleep. I originally was just going to leave you and let you continue sleeping, but then I thought that I had better make sure that you’d eaten,” Shepard finally said, breaking the atmospheric silence.

Samantha swallowed, hoping she wasn’t making any audible noise about it. If only it had been silent in her own thoughts, she’d be a whole lot less flustered. She ran a nervous finger over her ear, tucking away a few loose strands of hair and was glad that Shepard was positioned slightly behind her so that she couldn’t see her blushing cheeks. “Err, thanks. But James has already seen to that.”

“Oh he has, has he?”

“Mhm. He made me his devilishly delicious eggs.”

“Devilishly delicious? I always assumed they were terrible, with the way he’s always trying to pander them off to people.”

“They were quite tasty. You’ll have to give th—”

Shepard suddenly shushed Samantha, sitting upright and looking towards the stairs up to the engineering deck.

“Er, Shepard?”

Shepard then moved her hand and clapped it over Samantha’s mouth and shushed her again.

“What the hell?!” Samantha mumbled into Shepard’s hand—the electrical feeling on her lips making her want to both move away from Shepard and pull her closer at the same time. It was so incredibly intense.

“Donnelly, are you sure you haven’t seen Shepard?” Chakwas voice echoed down the stairwell.

“Can’ say I’ve seen ‘er, ma’am,” Donnelly responded.

“EDI informed me that Shepard was on this deck.”

“Shit,” Shepard mumbled and then looked around at the surrounding area, her hand unmoving from Samantha’s mouth.

“Like I said, I ‘aven’t seen ‘er, ma’am. She might be down below.”

“Shit shit shit. EDI,” she hissed towards the ceiling. “If Chakwas asks for my location again, tell her I’m unavailable and in my quarters. Had to take a personal or private call or something. And lock my door so she can’t go in.”

“Understood, Commander,” EDI’s voice quietly echoed back. “Although I do not understand your motiv—”

“Not now, EDI! I’ll explain later!” Shepard hissed.

EDI was quiet. But her sudden silence made the footfalls of someone walking towards the stairs much more noticeable.

“Hide!” Shepard hissed, standing quickly from her sitting position on the cot and grabbing Samantha by the wrist.

“Wait, what is goin—” Samantha started as Shepard pulled her into a standing position.

Shepard shushed her again, this time bringing a finger up to her own lips to emphasize being quiet without making any noise. She took a few steps across the alcove and used her biotics to quickly move two stacks of totes together, perpendicular to the wall. As her biotics flared, the electrical feeling against Samantha’s wrist where Shepard had a firm hold on her flared, too. Samantha let out a small gasp, the feeling now so intense that she felt that she’d need to move away.

But before she had the chance to do so, Shepard started moving again, pulling her along with her as she moved to sit on the ground, behind the newly moved stack of totes. Shepard sat, putting her back flat against the wall and then pulled Samantha down to sit directly in front of her. She was about to protest and demand to know what was happening when Shepard flared her biotics again to move the third stack in front of them. Shepard had effectively made a solid corner of totes.

_Why are we hiding from Dr. Chakwas?_ _Is that what we’re even doing?_ Samantha thought wildly—anything to get her mind off of the intense feeling coming from all of Shepard’s body. Shepard had pulled her down and then moved the totes, giving Samantha no room to move forward and away from Shepard. Her back was flush against Shepard’s front, and Shepard’s legs were on either side of her, one of her hands still grasping her wrist. Whenever the biotics flared, the electrical current intensified. Samantha wasn’t sure yet it if was an enjoyable feeling, or it was a sensory overload. She enjoyed the feeling of just Shepard touching her normally. That intensity was just enough to make her want more. But this much was enough to either throw her against a wall and snog her, or run out of the room. There was no happy medium. _Well, unless you count being forced to practically sit in her lap with no hope of escape as an option._

“Shepard, what the devil is going on?” Samantha finally hissed.

Shepard moved an arm to wrap tightly around Samantha’s stomach. Her hand that had been on her wrist moved to cover her mouth again. She moved her thumb so that it wasn’t blocking Samantha’s nose and then she leaned forward and very quietly shushed her, almost like a whisper straight into her ear.

It caused Samantha to shudder; not in a bad, repulsed kind of way—it was the way you shudder when someone kisses your neck, or runs their fingers lightly across your back, or—

Samantha felt heat in her cheeks again. _Bloody hell, this is insane! Absolutely insane. She’s basically built a small fort and hidden us away in it. If this were primary school, I’d fully expect her to try and snog me or something. But we’re not in primary school. And we’re two adult women. And we’re hunkered down on the floor, hiding behind stacks of boxes from a doctor like… like childish buffoons!_

_You wish she’d snog you, though._

_Not. Helping._

_But I’m ri-ight._

_Still. Not. Helping._

A pair of heels now echoed on the lower level of the engineering room, close to where they were. Shepard seemed to be holding her breath, as her chest stopped rising and falling against Samantha’s back. Samantha looked about trying to gather what was happening, but Shepard had hidden them pretty well. Their reflection couldn’t even be seen on the glass of the mass effect core access tube. But it also meant that Samantha couldn’t see what Chakwas was doing through the reflection, either.

The heels scuffled around the floor for a moment, seemingly going this way and that as she looked around the area. Then the footsteps became more consistent, sounding as if they were moving away.

“EDI,” Chakwas voice radiated in the dense metal hull. “Are you sure Shepard is on this floor?”

“My apologies, Dr. Chakwas. I was mistaken. Shepard has recently stepped into her cabin to take a very important phone call.”

“Don’t most of her calls come from the QEC room in the war room suite?”

“This call was from Sha'ira. It is a personal call.”

“The asari consort from the Citadel?” Chakwas asked, quite bemused sounding. Her heels clacked against the steps, her voice getting farther and farther away.

“Correct.”

Samantha could feel Shepard shake her head and her shoulders move a little, almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh. As the clatter of Chakwas heels started to sound further and further away, Shepard finally began to relax. But only when the sliding door hissed open and close did she move her hand from Samantha’s mouth.

Shepard let out a long breath and dropped both of her hands from Samantha’s body. Although Samantha was grateful for the relief of the intense feeling, her mid-section and mouth now felt oddly cold, much like how her hands felt after Shepard had let go of her hand the last time they spoke in the observatory room.

“Um… would you care to explain to me why we’re hiding, Commander?” Samantha finally asked. Anything to take her mind off of the weird feelings that her body was experiencing by being in such close proximity to the biotic woman.

“Oh, no reason.”

Samantha attempted to glance over her shoulder to get a look at Shepard’s face, but she was so close that she’d have to move her whole torso to do so. So she stopped trying. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Always,” Shepard said simply.

“I call bullshit.”

Shepard chuckled, her chest and shoulders moving up and down with the sound. “If you must know, I’m avoiding Dr. Chakwas. It was the reason I came down here in the first place… not that I wasn’t happy to find you instead.”

_Happy to find me instead?_

_Focus, Traynor._

Samantha then turned at her hips, moving her whole torso so that she could get to look at Shepard. When she stopped moving she’d put herself within inches of Shepard’s face, which almost startled her and she was tempted to move back around, but she held her ground. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t **_you_** reinstate her to the Normandy?”

Shepard smiled widely. “That I did. She’s a damn good doctor.”

“Then why are you avoiding her?”

Shepard chuckled and shook her head. She then leaned it back slightly, putting a little more room between their faces. It didn’t feel so intimate anymore. Which Samantha considered to be a good thing, given the mixed signals she seemed to be getting.

“I’m avoiding her because I have a deep seeded dislike for medical professionals. I wouldn’t want to taint the friendship I have with Karin by having to see her too often as a patient. I see her enough from the injuries I get from ground missions.”

“Ri-ight,” Samantha said, finally turning back around to look at the stack of totes in front of them. “Sooo, since she’s left, are we going to stop hiding like small children now?”

“Oh what? This was fun! Hide and seek as an adult is the best game to play,” Shepard teased. “But we should probably stay put, just for a little longer. You know… just in case she makes another sweep through.”

_And why would she want to do that? Is she enjoying how close we are?_

_She’s probably hiding from the rest of her responsibilities, too._

_Oh, so you think she’s using me as an escape from reality?_

_Now you’re just putting words into my mouth._

_Oh bugger off, then._

“Well alright then.”

“How is your R&R so far?” Shepard asked. She seemed genuinely curious.

“Honestly—dreadfully boring. I’d much rather be working.”

“But you’re not allowed to work right now,” Shepard teased, moving her knee to bump Samantha’s. “Why haven’t you challenged someone to a game of ultimate chess?”

“Because everyone else is working, Shepard.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment. “Why don’t you play EDI?”

“EDI’s no fun to play against.”

“What about Cortez?”

“I thought was in meetings with you all day.”

Shepard moved her hands to let them rest on her thighs, putting them oddly close to Samantha’s butt. “You had time to see Vega. Cortez was given the same break period.”

Samantha fought the urge to put her hands onto Shepard’s. _I haven’t sat like this with someone since I was attending Oxford. And never in a strictly friends situation. What the hell is Shepard getting at?_

“Speaking of Steve,” Samantha started, trying to take her mind off of their physical closeness. “I’m a bit worried about him.”

Shepard let out a soft sigh. “I am too. I keep telling him to take down time, but he flat out refuses. The man doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“You could always lock him out of the systems like you did me,” Samantha joked.

Shepard laughed softly. “That’s not a half bad idea.”

“Even though it is the most boring and mind numbing thing you could do to a crewmember,” Samantha added.

“Well, then why don’t you accompany me up to the final part of this meeting? We’re all reconvening over food to try and hash out the details of the next mission.”

Samantha turned around again, excited at the words that were coming out of her Commanding Officer’s attractive mouth. “You mean that I actually get to do work?”

“You can participate in the meeting, but you’re still locked out of the systems until we’ve reached the Ninmah Cluster.” She winked.

Samantha smiled. “I’ll take it!”

“Well alright then. I wager it’s about time for that meeting to reconvene anyway.”

“Perfect!” Samantha moved to stand only to fall back a bit as there really wasn’t a whole lot of room to move around in the small sealed off section that Shepard had created. Before she hit the ground, Shepard’s hands caught Samantha by the waist and then helped her land softly.

“Careful,” the Spectre said cautiously, her fingertips putting slight pressure on Samantha’s stomach.

Samantha swallowed. _Close sitting proximity, hand holding, hugging, basically sitting in her lap, and now this? There’s no way that Shepard treats everyone this way… right?_

“You okay?”

Samantha blinked, she’d apparently gone tense. She let out a quick breath and tried to relax her muscles. “Yeah, great.”

_I should ask her._

_You’ll ruin it._

_But then how will I figure it out?_

_You’ll ruin it._

_You’re not helpful in the least._

_I know. But you know I’m right, Traynor._

_Sod off._

“Can I ask you something?” Samantha said, almost immediately regretting it.

“Of course. I can’t guarantee an answer though,” Shepard responded, laughter in her voice.

Samantha chewed on her lower lip. But as she was building courage to ask Shepard the thing that had been on her mind since she came down to the engineering deck and had woken Samantha up, the light on Shepard’s omni-tool started to blink, and a quiet beeping noise sounded.

“Go ahead and answer that, Shepard.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Samantha said waving a dismissive hand and attempting to stand again.

This time Shepard guided her up as she stood, keeping her steady in the tight space. Once Samantha was on her feet, Shepard accepted the omni-tool call. “This is Shepard.”

“Hey Commander,” Garrus’ gruff voice echoed into the alcove. “Foods all ready and crew’s all here except you.”

“Great. Specialist Traynor and I will there in just a minute.”

“Traynor? I thought you forced her out of the systems?”

“And I also asked her to come to this meeting.”

“Well alright then. See you soon.” And the omni-tool went quiet.

Samantha pushed at the end stack of totes in an effort to move it out of the way but it wouldn’t budge. These totes weren’t empty, unlike the ones that had been stacked on top of the cot.

The stack then became outlined in a purple-bluish haze and moved out, creating an opening in the hidey hole Shepard had made. Samantha turned around to see that Shepard was now standing and was flaring down her biotics. Shepard motioned for Samantha to walk through first.

“What were you going to ask me?” Shepard asked as they both started walking.

“Oh, never mind.” Samantha focused on her walking in an attempt to ensure that her cheeks didn’t start to blush. _No. No we’re not going to ask what Shepard feels about you. Not the time or place for that._

“You sure?” Shepard asked, her steps falling in line with Samantha’s as they reached the stairs.

“Yeah. It must not have been anything important, since I can’t recall the question,” she said with a nervous laugh. _Great. Keep that up and you might as well just spell it out that you’re not telling her the truth._

Samantha glanced over her shoulder to see that Shepard was eyeing her suspiciously. She wasn’t fooled by the flustered specialists attempt at forgetting the original question.

“Well, if you **_do_** remember, you’ll ask me, right?”

“’Course, Commander.”

The two walked in silence as they finished ascended the stairs and made their way towards the elevator. Samantha tried to focus on her breathing, or the movement of her feet, or consciously forcing herself not to fiddle with her fingers as they rode the elevator up to the crew deck.

When the elevator finally released them, they walked into a fairly crowded mess hall. But it was full of Shepard’s ground team members, and not the usual shipside crew that Samantha always saw in the area. Everyone was here, except Jeff and Chakwas. Garrus and Liara were sitting at the table already, food dished out on to their plates. EDI sat at the table too, but didn’t have a plate in front of her. James and Steve were in the kitchenette area, putting food onto plates.

“Chiquita! Lola! The fiesta can officially start!” James said as he turned around with a full plate of food.

“We’re still working, Vega,” Shepard said. Her tone was serious but she was smiling. “We can save the cerveza for after we’ve accomplished this mission.”

“Well fine then,” James said back playfully. “But you don’t have to have cerveza for a fiesta. Tequila works, too.”

Steve shook his head behind James and then pushed him gently between the shoulders so that he kept moving. Shepard smiled again and then went to grab a plate and started dishing food onto it. Samantha patiently waited behind her, watching what was being glopped on the Commander’s plate. Whatever it was, it looked almost like the consistency of biscuits and gravy. It was a dark cream colored thick gravy with chunks of something… maybe meat and potatoes mixed in.

Shepard grabbed two bread rolls and put them on the plate and then pointedly handed it to Samantha. “It tastes better than it looks,” she said, bringing her other hand up to put a spork type utensil on the plate.

“Oh,” Samantha said, slightly surprised to see that Shepard had personally dished her meal for her. “Thank you.”

Shepard nodded and then grabbed another plate and started dishing it up.

Samantha turned around and started to make her way towards the table. Both Garrus and Steve were eyeing her. James was too busy stuffing food into his face and Liara was pouring over a data pad that she had lying on the table, and EDI wasn’t facing her direction. Garrus looked confused, almost as if asking why Shepard had personally dished Samantha’s plate. Steve looked absolutely beside himself, smiling at Samantha and even offering a wink.

There were a few seats open, but Samantha found herself wanting to sit next to Steve so she could jab him in the ribs for the ridiculous, almost knowing smile that he had plastered on his face. To his left was a single empty chair between him and James, and to his left were two empty seats between him and Garrus.

_I wonder…_ Samantha pondered as she decided to sit to Steve’s right.

She walked up to the table and as she was placing her food, Liara looked up from her data pad. “Samantha! How are you feeling?”

“Oh, much better, thanks. Chakwas made sure I was fit for duty before I left the med bay,” Samantha said as she pulled out her chair and sat down.

“That’s wonderful news. I’ve always quite liked Dr. Chakwas. She’s quite knowledgeable in all alien species’ physiology.”

“Yeah, it’s thanks to her that I still have my right mandible,” Garrus chimed in with an exaggerated flex of his mandibles. The scar on the right side of his face stretched with the movement.

“That’s why I reinstated her to the Normandy,” Shepard said as she pulled out the chair between Garrus and Samantha.

_Really? She took the bait,_ Samantha thought. She’d sat down next to Steve to see where Shepard would choose to sit. There were plenty of open seats, but she chose to be right next to her.

_Or she just really likes sitting by Garrus. Everything doesn’t revolve around you, Traynor._

_Don’t ruin this moment for me._

_Moment? Shepard sat down. How is that a significant moment in your life?_

_Let me be happy in my own made up reasoning, okay?_

“Right, so now that we’re all here and tucking in to food, let’s finish this damn tactical meeting so we can all have a relaxing evening, eh?” There was a cumulative agreement. And Shepard continued. “So, it’s already been decided that we’re going to the Malla Xul System in the Ninmah Cluster. Wrex says the whereabouts of the krogan platoon, Aralakh Company, is on the planet Utukku and they’re investigating the possible presence of rachni on the planet. Does anyone have any knowledge of the rachni species, in case they really are there and are a threat?”

No one spoke, but everyone seemed to think that taking a bite of food at the same time was the best possible course of action. All save Liara.

“The rachni have been extinct for a thousand years, Shepard. Little was preserved about their fighting tactics when the salarians uplifted the korgans to irradiate the rachni. That’s why it was so surprising when you found a live one on Noveria all those years ago. And that’s why it was so poorly received that you released the queen back out into the universe.”

Samantha had heard and read the stories on the extranet about that particular occurrence in galactic history. It had been quite the uproar at the R&D lab. Her supervisor at the time had ranted and raved about the wasted scientific opportunity of simply releasing the queen instead of keeping her for study.

Shepard took a thoughtful bite of her meal. So far Samantha wasn’t entirely impressed with the plate of food in front of her. James’ eggs had been far more flavorful. But she was glad to be sitting with the entire ground team.

_Wait… I’ve studied the rachni!_ Samantha thought. She rushed to swallow her food. _Okay, studied isn’t the right word. I’ve study them in a hypothetical sense from data that is over a thousand years old._ “Well, we studied them in a hypothetical sense back in the lab,” Samantha finally said, her food still sliding down her throat. She probably could have chewed for a bit longer, but she was excited to contribute to the conversation. “We were studying their long range communication capabilities. Some early scientists believed that the rachni had some sort of telepathic link that let them communicate to any rachni soldier, no matter the distance. Although that theory was debunked, the rachni had some interesting forms of communication. Through that research, our lab was able to better improve the current QEC coding and modulation for virtually limitless range transmissions.”

“Any useful battle tactics in that lab study of yours?” Garrus asked, his tone slightly playful but on the verge of being condescending.

“Well, I suppose,” Samantha responded, slightly taken aback by his tone. Maybe this day long meeting was starting to annoy him. Or maybe he was just tired. “If you take into consideration how they communicate, you might understand their movements better.”

Shepard repositioned herself in her seat to get a better look at Samantha, her facial expression showing that she was intrigued with what she had to offer. “Go on,” Shepard urged.

* * *

The meeting had been productive and Shepard finally was confident with a tactical plan for the upcoming mission. Samantha was still feeling rather confident in herself for being able to provide valuable insight into the rachni behavior, even if it was all from reading scientific notes and not actual firsthand experience.

Liara had already gotten up and retreated to her room. Her data pad had kept blinking with different colors to inform her of various notifications throughout the entire meeting. Garrus and James had walked off towards the longue, saying something about getting that cerveza that Shepard had mentioned. Steve had gone for a second helping of food while they were still talking and was now finishing up his plate.

Shepard and Samantha had walked towards the kitchenette area and were putting their dishes in the washer. Shepard loaded her dishes and then stood, letting her arms stretch out wide as she stretched them out, along with her back.

“Thanks for your input tonight,” she said as she moved to then rub the back of her neck.

“Of course. I just hope that the information is useful when you hit the ground.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Shepard smiled and then rolled her shoulders back. She seemed to be extremely stiff.

Samantha let the quiet fill between them for a moment, but then asked: “So how about that game of chess? You’re done with your meetings, right?”

“Can I have a rain check? I was planning on trying to get some sleep. It’s been two solar days since the last time I got any real sleep.”

“Oh—of course.”

Steve then stood and started walking with his plate towards the kitchenette. “But you should ask Cortez here to play a friendly game with you.”

“What? I still have flight duties to attend to, Commander,” Steve said matter-o-factly as he rinsed his dish.

Shepard smiled. “If I’m forcing Traynor to take some down time, it is only fair that I make you take it, too.”

Samantha blinked. _Did she listen to my suggestion?_

“I get my rest, Commander. Flying tired is just as bad as flying drunk.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow for him. "You’re burning the candle at both ends, Cortez.”

“I’m fine. Honest.”

“Alright then. EDI, power down all the tools in the shuttle bay and lock Cortez’ clearance codes for the next ten waking hours.”

“Yes, Commander,” EDI’s voice said through the ceiling speakers as she’d already taken her mech body back up to the bridge.

“You’re locking me out of the systems?”

“He’s only being locked out for the next ten hours? That’s not fair at all!” Samantha whined.

Shepard smiled. “Tough luck, Traynor. And yes, Cortez. No mission related work for the next ten waking hours. And that’s an order. Now, you two go do something fun for the next few hours.” Shepard then turned and waved over her shoulder, leaving the two of them standing in the mess together.

“What the hell just happened?” Steve asked as Shepard’s frame disappeared behind the elevator shaft.

“That, my dear friend, is what it feels like when Shepard pulls the Commander Officer card.” Samantha smiled. Although she felt slightly gutted that Steve wasn’t going to be locked out for nearly as long as she was, she was glad that Shepard had forced him to take a break. And she was glad that she’d listened.

_Maybe James was right… maybe she and I_ **are** _close._


	11. A Huggy Kind Of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a quick shout out to those of you who have pointed out some of the spelling errors in the various chapters. I think there might be some kind of disconnect between fanfiction and my word processor because I’ll read the chapter online and find errors of things I know I’ve corrected (spelling errors or flat out missing words). But there are other times when I’ve simply missed things. (By the annoying happenstance of editing, I’m far better at editing other peoples’ work than I am at editing my own. *shrug* Life, right?). Please continue to point things out! 
> 
> And thank you for the continued reviews, follows, favorites, and private messages regarding this story. I realize it’s been over a year now since I last updated but I’m hoping that my life has settled down enough again where I can commit to writing more routinely, because Enkindlers knows I miss it. I’m not sure what the update schedule will be like, but my hope is to eventually get back to monthly updates until this story is complete. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking in there with me everyone! And now, I present to you the long awaited Chapter 11!
> 
> Enjoy!

** A Huggy Kind Of Day  
** _Fanfic by MistressNoriko_

“We’ve got him, Commander. We’ll keep you posted about his condition,” the asari nurse said as she moved to take hold of Grunt’s gurney, simultaneously side stepping in front of Shepard, forcing her out of the way.

“He isn’t just another krogran! He’s unique,” Shepard said as she let go of the gurney. She stayed at the hurried pace with the medical response team that met her at docking bay D24 that was now walking out of the elevator into Heurta Memorial’s waiting area. “Warlord Okeer created him from selective krogan DNA. His physiology might be different than other krograns you’ve treated!”

Someone then pulled on Shepard’s arm, forcing her to stop moving forward with the gurney right as they reached the sliding doors to the intensive care wing. The team moved through the doors and they slid shut in front of Shepard before she could shake the person’s strong grip.

“Ma’am, let them do their jobs,” the person who had grabbed her started, squeezing just enough to pull her attention away from the closed doors. He was human, tall, lanky, and scrawny in nurse scrubs. Shepard pulled against the nurse’s grip again but his hand was firmly grasping her upper bicep.

“We’ve already got all his medical records forwarded from Normandy’s med bay and from the krogan people,” he started, trying to hold Shepard’s eyes that kept darting back to the doors. “We’ve been expecting you and have prepped the best we can. He’s in good hands. We’ll do everything we can for him.”

She clenched her jaw. She could have easily pulled hard enough to get out of his grip, but he was right: she wasn’t a trained doctor and she’d simply be getting in the way. She finally let her muscles relax and then just nodded.

Looking down, her clothes were covered in blood. Grunt’s blood. The warrior hated the idea of being treated and held up in a hospital. He kept saying that he felt fine and kept trying to get up, but then he’d tear open still healing wounds and start bleeding through his bandages. The two day flight back from the Ninmah Cluster had been rough on Grunt and on Shepard, and the other crew members who had helped keep him sedated. Shepard knew that Dr. Chakwas was shaken by the whole experience; she’d never seen her so frustrated as she had when the sedatives stopped working on Grunt. It got to the point where Mordin had to concoct a new sedative that had to be administered every hour… but after a few dosages, Grunt’s body stopped responding to it.

“Commander Shepard, right?” the nurse asked, his hand relaxing a little around Shepard’s bicep.

Shepard looked up at him and nodded, letting her headspace come back to the hospital and not on the Normandy for the past two days.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean any insult, but you look exhausted.” He finally let go of her arm. “Why don’t you take a shower at the nurses’ station while I find you a clean pair of clothes?” He motioned to the doors that Grunt had been carried through.

Shepard looked down again at her clothing and hands: she really was covered in blood. She knew if she walked around the citadel in her current state she’d attract more attention than she cared for. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.”

She followed him through the sliding doors through the contamination corridor and then into the intensive care wing of Heurta Memorial. As they walked in relative silence Shepard glanced at Ashley’s room and saw that there were two people up and about. She gave a half smile that was immediately wiped off of her face when she heard a loud clatter come from the next room over and a turian start yelling for someone to get a restraint back on and to get him a new syringe.

She must have made a move to go to the room because the nurse she’d been following put a cautious hand on her shoulder. “Commander, they’ve got it.”

“Right.” She didn’t believe him, but who was she to step in and take over in a medical facility? She hated medical facilities. But she and Wrex had been the only people aboard the Normandy who could control Grunt for the past two solar days as they flew through the relays to get to the Citadel. She was at least more practiced at holding down the krogan than these doctors were, she was sure of that much.

Letting out a long breath she nodded and continued walking with the nurse towards the back of the corridor. He led her to the back corner and then through several doors that finally ended up in a small room with lockers and several shower stalls. He told her which shower to use and handed her a towel, saying he’d make sure that a clean pair of alliance casual wear was ready for her by the time she got out and then left.

The room was stiff and sterile. It wasn’t a room that Shepard wanted to spend too much time in. She stripped down quickly, turning all of her clothing inside out to avoid getting blood on the bench that she placed them on. She made sure to pull a few things out of her pockets and set them between her shirt and pants: Kaiden’s alliance photo; Kaiden’s dog tags; a picture of her at the age of fifteen with her parents.

Shepard’s footsteps echoed as she padded across the tile floor to the farthest shower stall as the nurse had indicated. She turned the water on and pulled the privacy curtain closed behind her. The water spurted and then became a steady, low pressure stream cascading at an angle down directly at her face. The water pressure was abysmal, which meant she’d have to spend more time here just to make sure all the soap came out of her hair.

In an effort to try and leave as soon as possible, she immediately pushed the dispenser for soap—there were two dispensers suctioned to the shower wall: one labeled soap and the other labeled shampoo/conditioner. As soon as the soap foamed out into her hand, the overwhelming scent of sterile sanitizer hit her nose.

_“Alright, Jane. Why don’t we start at the beginning,” Dr. Dalinari started again. The asari doctor had spent the last month trying to get Shepard to call her by her first name, Elina. She’d said over and over that that’s why she called her Jane and that by using each other’s first names, they’d be better able to build trust between them. Shepard thought it was a bunch of horse shit._

_Shepard had just gotten out of the shower—her skin reeked with the chemical soap that was standard issue here in the psych ward._

_“Someone said that you were in the shower and you scrubbed your skin raw.” Dr. Dalinari prompted when Shepard remained silent._

_“So,” Shepard responded, looking anywhere but the asari doctor. She looked so perpetually concerned that it always seemed like she was about to start crying. Shepard couldn’t stand it._

_“Did you think you were covered in blood again?”_

_“I felt dirty. So I took a shower. Is that now on the list of shit I’m not allowed to do, too?” Shepard asked hotly. Her knee started to bounce with impatience._

_“Of course not, Jane. You’re always welcome to take a shower.”_

_“Great. Can I leave now?”_

_“I really think you should sit for a minute and talk with me. Even if it is about something obscure.”_

_“I’d rather not.”_

_Dr. Dalinari took in a quick breath and then put her clipboard in her lap and uncrossed her legs. “We could just sit here too, if that’s what you’d rather.”_

_She was too damned nice. There were plenty of times that Shepard had wanted to punch her square in the face. Instead she sat there and clenched her hands into fists and looked down at her arm that was tightly wrapped in gauze and slightly oozing with a healthy application of medigel as her knee continued to bounce, now at a faster pace._

Shepard tried to ignore the memory as she scrubbed herself, now concentrating on her hands where Grunt’s blood had started to dry under her fingernails even though they were clipped extremely short. The rest of her body seemed to be cleaned, but her hands had been dyed a shade of pink from how much time she’d spent trying to pin Grunt down to the examination table over the last few days. She concentrated on scrubbing her hands, careful not to scrub too hard to the point of breaking her skin.

_“Jane, it’s late! Why are you out here?” Dr. Dalinari asked._

_Shepard had snuck out of her bed and was huddled in the corner of the balcony trying to count the cars as they flew by. Her arms and legs were covered in gauze and medigel. The problem of feeling dirty and thinking she was covered in blood was becoming a pretty serious problem according to another asari, Nurse Payette, who kept coming to bandage Shepard up after her shower mishaps._

_Tonight Nurse Payette had told Dr. Dalinari that Shepard was not to shower alone until they made further progress. Dr. Dalinari, to her credit, had argued with Nurse Payette, saying that if they did that it would only hinder Shepard’s healing process, not hasten it. But the two medical professionals stood there arguing while Shepard sat and listened. She had felt like a child caught in the crossfire of two bickering parents and wanted nothing more than to simultaneously punch both women and hide somewhere. The feeling of wanting to escape and hide had been a very uncharacteristic feeling for a decorated soldier. Shepard had never been so disgusted with herself._

_“It doesn’t reek out here,” Shepard said simply, counting the two hundred and fourteenth purple sky-car to streak by her balcony._  

_“Jane, it’s dangerous for you to be out here alone.”_

_“Oh, if I had wanted to jump and kill myself, trust me—I would have done it by now.”_

_“I didn’t… that’s not… Jane...”_

_Shepard hadn’t needed to look at her because it was painted in her voice how upsetting her comment had made the doctor. She didn’t care, though. All she wanted was to be able to be out in the recycled air of the Citadel and hope that it would dissipate the concentrated smell of sterile sanitizer in her hair and on her skin and that the counting of sky-cars would distract her from the thoughts in her head and general feeling of worthlessness._

_Dr. Dalinari suddenly knelt down next to Shepard and put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to forget if she was on five hundred and two or three for black sky-cars. Shepard closed her eyes and clenched her jaw and pointedly didn’t look at the asari._

_“I’m here to help you, Jane. Why aren’t you letting me?”_

_Shepard stayed quiet and opened her eyes and started counting black sky-cars again. Dr. Dalinari could never understand how weak she felt by the fact that she was forced to be here. Forced medical leave was basically a death sentence for career military personnel. Shepard didn’t know anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t about to take a desk job at Alliance HQ. She’d sooner throw herself in front of a charging krogan without putting any protective battle armor on than be a paper pusher who stared at a vid screen all day._

_HQ kept telling her that she was a goddamn hero, but she sure as hell didn’t feel like one. She felt small, fragile, and confused. They wouldn’t let her have a firearm—probably for fear that she’d harm herself or some unfortunate medical professional who was trying to calm her down during one of her “episodes.”_

_Dr. Dalinari’s hand went to Shepard’s cheek and gently forced her face towards her. “Jane,” she said softly._

_The tone in her voice was what got her to look; it was different than her usual sad tone. She wasn’t sure exactly how it was different—it was quiet and meant only for Shepard to hear. When she finally looked the asari doctor in the face, she was incredibly close, three, maybe four inches away from her face._

_“Do you not trust me?” Dr. Dalinari asked in the same private tone that was confusing the soldier._

_“Not particularly.”_

_She was quiet for a long moment and then met Shepard’s eyes. Her eyes were suddenly completely black, something Shepard had never seen before._

_“Let me meld minds with you, Jane. It’ll be easier for me to help you this way.”_

_Shepard leaned away, not sure what the asari meant. Dr. Dalinari was only the third asari she’d had interactions with and was still getting used to their terminology and mannerisms._

_Dr. Dalinari’s hand remained on Shepard’s cheek, trying to hold her in place. Shepard suddenly felt something pull—for lack of a better term—in her mind and felt very uncomfortable, causing her head to flinch away from the asari._

_“Relax, Jane,” the asari said. She moved her head in closer and pressed her lips to Shepard’s. Her lips were soft, just like any other woman she’d kissed. Maybe even softer… It caught her off guard, but it apparently did what Dr. Dalinari was hoping it would do._

_Shepard’s vision went black, the edges in a weird purple haze. It was a strange feeling. She could **feel** Dr. Dalinari in her head, as unfathomable as that sounded. It was like a light touch that was there but wasn’t there at the same time. Shepard’s vision swam and she was suddenly on the ground in Elysium, shortly after the batarian had thrown her from her crows’ nest._

_“NO!” Shepard screamed and struck outward. Dr. Dalinari was abruptly pulled from her head and Shepard opened her eyes to see biotic energy surge out of her. The force of her energy hit Dr. Dalinari and sent her flying backwards, her head colliding with the building. She slumped._

_Shepard blinked. Her breathing was erratic. The energy dissipated around her as she moved to see if Dr. Dalinari was alright. She put a hand on her neck, where you’d usually find the pulse on a human. “Dr. Dalinari?” she asked quietly. She didn’t feel any kind of pulse under her fingers._

_She moved a hand over the woman’s heart. “Elina?!” she asked louder and more frantically._

Shepard’s knuckles collided with the tiled wall of the shower stall, shattering the porcelain material of two tiles. That had been one of the worst nights while she was at the psych ward. Elina died as Shepard had yelled for help and no one came. The biotic surge she’d given off had thrown her back and when she collided with the wall it had broken her neck at the base of her skull, killing her almost instantly. Or at least, that’s what the doctor’s told her the next day. Nurse Payette was her only visitor for twice a day to keep her heavily sedated while they found a replacement doctor. It had taken almost a full month before they found a matriarch who was willing to work with Shepard.

Her hair was streaming in her face as she tried to rinse out the hair wash. There was still too much damn soap in it and no matter how much water trickled out of the facet, it didn’t seem to be rinsing anything out. The smell was just as awful now as it had been that night that Elina had died.

_Why isn’t the water pressure higher?_ she thought as she tried to massage the water deeper into her scalp to speed up the rinse, the fresh scrapes on her knuckles burning as the water and soap mingled with raw flesh.

* * *

The last few days had been extremely tense aboard the Normandy. When they hit Ninmah Cluster, the leisurely atmosphere of her mandated R&R that she’d just started to getting comfortable with suddenly evaporated. She was allowed to go back to work and it was a madhouse of playing catch up and processing new intel on the happenings on the surface of Utukku and the Aralakh Company. While Shepard’s ground team had been on foot they confirmed the existence of rachni and the rachni queen that Shepard had released on Noveria a little over three years ago. She was surprised that Shepard was willing to sacrifice krogan lives to make sure the queen escaped alive and unharmed. The krogans that Samantha had been tapped into weren’t happy about the decision, but the company leader, although displeased with the decision, seemingly gave up his life willingly to make sure it happened. To everyone’s surprise, the krogan company leader somehow made his way out of the tunnels and found Shepard’s team just as Steve had landed the Kodiak. The Normandy had been a very busy place ever since.

The med bay had been full with two krogan patients, Eve and this other, smaller krogan named Grunt. Samantha had only caught a glimpse of him while she went down to the mess to grab her meals. Grunt kept trying to get out of his restraints, which was causing a lot of problems in the med bay, or so Chakwas told Samantha as she was eating one of her less than appetizing high protein meal bars that she’d been prescribed. Grunt did this so often that pages for Wrex to the med bay happened every forty five minutes or so, but they never paged Shepard. It seemed that this was the first time that Shepard had willing stayed for an extended period of time in the med bay; she was there every time Samantha came down to eat. She even saw Shepard and Wrex holding Grunt down while Chakwas and Mordin administered various injections on one trip for sustenance. It had been scary to see the giant Battlemaster and the Spectre have to team up to hold Grunt down and it still look like a sufficient challenge for both of them. There was even a time that Shepard had been flung across the med bay by Grunt’s flailing arms in an attempt to get up. Shepard had hit one of the glass windows, startling everyone in the mess and then she had immediately dashed back and continued to pin the krogan down. After that incident, it was common protocol to have the privacy screen active on all of the med bay windows.

For Samantha, writing the letter to Hackett explaining that he’d have rachni workers for the crucible had been an entertaining momentary diversion from the tension aboard the ship as they flew to Citadel space. She wished that she could have written a program to record his expression as he read the email as she was sure it would be a priceless reaction.

Even though Shepard had been kept busy with things in the med bay, EDI made sure to kick Samantha out of the systems at exactly ten hours of work. The whole process was beyond frustrating, as Samantha would begin a new assignment and ten or fifteen minutes into it she’d be booted out of the system. Frustrating as it may be, it had provided Samantha the chance to get into the routine of actually eating and socializing with the rest of the crew. She’d spent a few meal breaks with Vega, who graciously offered to make her food, usually his eggs, whenever they were in the mess together. She’d played a few rounds of Skillian Five with Garrus and Donnelly from engineering, at which she won every round. She even got another email out to her parents who had been ecstatic to hear that she was safe but worried to know that she’d been assigned to the team of the infamous Commander Shepard. The breaks had been nice, but the tense feeling on the crew deck never went unnoticed—especially when loud clattering was heard from the med bay.

Despite the falling into a routine and having the down time that Shepard had mandated for her, Samantha still wasn’t sleeping very well. The only decent amount of sleep she was able to get was when Chakwas had sedated her, roughly four days ago now. Sleeping in the crew quarters was almost impossible, with different people coming and going for their shifts at all hours of the day. After Grunt came aboard the Normandy there was a constant low level murmur about what was going on around the ship. The tense feelings Samantha had picked up on while she worked at her post in the CIC were confirmed while she was trying to fall asleep as she overheard various crew members conversing. And god forbid she try to sleep while Donnelly was sleeping—the man sounded like the damaged engines of a barely space worthy frigate.

The lack of sleep did nothing for her headache that was still lingering at the base of her skull. There were a few days that she was tempted to go to Dr. Chakwas and ask for a sedative, but she could never bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to let Shepard know that she still wasn’t adjusted to spaceship life and since Shepard never left the med bay since Grunt boarded the ship, she couldn’t subtly ask for assistance from Dr. Chakwas. And when she saw Dr. Chakwas in the mess hall, Samantha couldn’t bring herself to ask for anything personal because she always ended up listening to Dr. Chakwas vent her frustrations with what was happening with Grunt.

She rubbed the back of her neck and stifled a yawn. _I really hope that I can snag some solid sleep here soon,_ she thought. _If not, I’ll probably send Shepard to a candy mountain with some fluffy thresher maw that hands out spicy crisps instead of the reaper hot spot she wants…_ She moved her hand and then rolled her neck from side to side.

“EDI, how much time do I have before you’ll boot me from the systems?” Samantha asked as she debated opening up a report that had been forwarded from the ninth platoon on Tuchanka. They’d docked at the Citadel about an hour and a half ago. She had watched as Wrex met the Citadel medical response team as they boarded the ship and then watched the team leave, Shepard close in toe with Grunt stretched out on a gurney. For a patient that had been in constant care in their med bay for the past two solar days, Samantha thought that there had been far too much blood on the blanket that covered Grunt and on Shepard’s front.

“You have thirteen and a half minutes of duty time left for this solar day, Specialist Traynor.”

“Thanks, EDI,” Samantha said flatly as she opened the report anyway. She didn’t know how long they were going to be docked at the Citadel or when they were leaving for Tuchanka. So any intel coming from the planet Samantha deemed necessary to read through and forward along if need be.

She swiped through the report: it was something about the ninth platoon attempting to go into a hot zone and their aircrafts being shot down by reaper forces. The situation was bad and Samantha was sure that Shepard wasn’t going to be too pleased about it since the ninth platoon had been explicitly told to wait for Shepard’s team to arrive according to an attached email strain between Primarch Victus and the turian platoon leader.

Samantha scanned through the attached emails and report several times to make sure that she wasn’t missing any small particulars that might have eluded her on the first read through, especially since she was tired and lost her focus when the report got into boring wordy territory full of turian military jargon. The Ninth Platoon had flown into a hot zone, their ships had been separated, all ships had been shot down, there was a list of downed ship locations, critically injured, those killed in action, and a list of their abysmally dwindling supplies. Their current situation was rather dire just based on the numbers generated in the report. If the reaper activity on the surface was any indication, the next twenty four hours for the remaining turian soldiers was going to mean the difference between life and death depending on how the remaining supplies were used and whether or not the Normandy could get there in time. She decided it was definitely something that Shepard was going to want to see.

Samantha took a few minutes to parse the report down into pertinent particulars and even created a new report with her prediction of their supply usage, accounting for possible increased reaper activity, and then forwarded it onto Shepard.

[[Commander:

Please find the attached report from the ninth platoon on Tuchanka. I’ll be the last person to try and tell you how to do your job, but if this report and my projected supply trends are accurate, this should be the first thing we take care of once we get to Tuchanka.

Formal Salutes, Salutations, and Whatnot,

Communications Specialist Traynor]]

Samantha re-read the email briefly, but EDI started a countdown from ten on her screen, something she’d started doing once Samantha had cursed her out after thinking she’d lost hours’ worth of data collecting. EDI had informed her than none of her data had been lost, but she would implement a countdown to avoid another verbal bombardment. It had made Samantha feel silly and she then apologized profusely.

As the countdown hit the five, Samantha sighed and sent the message. She always felt odd sending emails to Shepard, usually because Shepard was standing at her console in the CIC when she did it. It was simply protocol. But there wasn’t anything in the protocol that said that Samantha couldn’t weasel in some humor into the dry, informational emails.

EDI’s counter finally hit zero and her console screen went black. Samantha took a moment to stretch her arms out to her sides and then brought them behind her, clasping her hands together and continued to stretch. Her shoulders were sore from being slightly hunched over her console for the last five hours and from all the wakeful hours spent on her bunk trying to get comfortable instead of actually sleeping. She was starting to be a tad envious of the crew that had chairs and multiple vid screens along the sides of the CIC.

_I’d probably fall asleep in one of those blighted things anyway… that and they don’t get to see Shepard as much as I do,_ she thought to herself as she brought her hands down to her side and then rolled her neck from side to side again, not bothering to hide her smile about being able to see more of Shepard.

“Hey, Traynor,” Moreau’s voice sounded by her console’s black vid screen.

Samantha blinked and then looked around, leaning to the side to try and get a view of the cockpit. “Uh, yes?”

“Do you know anything about a memorial wall being put on the ship?”

Samantha blinked again and then looked to Shepard’s desk area. “It doesn’t ring any bells, no. Why?”

“Cause I got a bunch of Alliance brass knocking on my door asking where to set up the damn thing. They said that Shepard ordered it. Did you know you could just order these things? And have them delivered to an active war ship? I wish I had that kind of cash,” Joker rambled.

“There is adequate space in the shuttle bay, engineering deck, and the crew deck,” EDI’s voice chimed in through Moreau’s channel, not through the overhead.

“EDI, it’d be pretty depressing to have to pass that list of names every time you headed out for a mission. I mean, unless we’re turning them into Saints and saying quick prayers to them before boarding the Kodiak,” Moreau said. “So that might be pretty cool. EDI! Remind me to tell Shepard that I want to be sainted should I die on this boat, kay?”

Samantha rubbed her forehead with her fingers, trying to suppress her headache and tried to ignore Moreau’s rabbit-hole diatribe while she tried to understand why Shepard would want a memorial wall on the ship. “Did the Alliance delivery men say who approved Shepard’s order?”

“Commander Shepard emailed Admiral Hackett shortly before the war summit,” EDI said.

“Then maybe we should ask Shepard,” Samantha said, moving her hand from her forehead to the top of her shoulder, rubbing a stiff muscle.  

“She probably wants it someplace public and with high traffic to gently remind us what we’re fighting for… or some underhanded morale boosting shit like that,” Moreau said, scoffing ever so slightly.

“I’ve sent a message to Commander Shepard, Specialist Traynor.”

Samantha smiled. “Good work, EDI. Glad someone up there can keep things moving.”

“Is that a Vrolik syndrome joke?” Moreau asked.

“You’ll never know.” Samantha smiled and then started walking away from her desk towards the elevators.

“Classy, Traynor. Real classy,” she heard Moreau’s voice from the comm channel by her desk.

The elevator responded to her summon quickly and she boarded it, pressing the 3 for the crew deck. _Maybe I’ll be able to snag a nap,_ she thought as the elevator began to move, trying to push her thoughts aside about Shepard’s motivations for wanting a memorial wall on the ship.

Samantha rolled her shoulders back—her muscles becoming incredibly stiff at the thought of sleep. _Maybe I should sneak ashore and get a massage, then I might actually be able to sleep once we leave. Although,_ she continued to think as she absentmindedly rubbed the top of her shoulder with her left hand. _There is a fifty percent chance that Shepard will lift my blighted ten hour work restriction, considering all that’s happening down on the surface of Tuchanka and not be allowed to sleep. I could fall asleep from exhaustion again if that happened… A girl can dream, right?_

_Fat chance, Traynor. Shepard is acting on Chakwas’ recommendation, remember?_

_Right—acting on Chakwas’ recommendation… the doctor that she avoids._

_Are you really complaining?_

_What in heavens would I be complaining about?_

_Shepard avoiding Chakwas means more possible run ins with you._

Samantha blinked a few times, remembering the night that Shepard had forced her to hide with her from Dr. Chakwas. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling suddenly when her body immediately recalled every sensation that had run through her while Shepard had been so close to her. Even though the odd electrical sensation had been a bit much at the time, thinking back on it her body was suddenly cold, subconsciously wishing that Shepard was nearby to feel, hold, or grab.

_I can’t believe that I almost asked her how she really felt about me. That would have been ruddy mortifying._

_Mortifying? Really, Traynor?_

_Yes, mortifying. She’s my Commanding Officer. If she gets a wiff that I fancy her she could boot me from the ship for violating the fraternization policy._

_You’re still worried about that?_

Samantha let out an audible groan as the elevator started to slow to a stop. _Of course you dolt. If I get booted from the ship then I don’t get to see her, do I?_

_Or you’d be allowed to see more of her. You know… with less clothing and no alliance red tape._

_Right, because she’ll have time to fly and see me somewhere between missions as she saving the galaxy. And it isn’t like we’re even anything. Why would she even want to come and see me? I’m a soldier under her command and we both happen to be gay—she probably only sees me as member of her crew and nothing else._

The doors to the elevator opened and Samantha sighed before stepping off, finding the crew deck to be rather empty. Normally when her shift was over, there were people eating or moving about between shifts. But it was strangely quiet on the deck. Or maybe it was that the med bay was back to normal, Samantha thought as she surveyed the deck seeing that the privacy screen wasn’t activated in the med bay and saw Dr. Solus hunched over something on a counter and Dr. Chakwas conversing with the female korgan who had taken up residence there.

_I can’t imagine how difficult the last few days have been for her,_ Samantha thought with a sad smile, thinking of the female krogan and pushing her previous thoughts and inner conversation out of her head.

She stifled another yawn and then turned around to make her way into the crew quarters. The prospects of having a satisfying nap sounded more enticing than sneaking ashore for a massage. When the doors slid open to the crew quarters, she could hear the all too familiar sound of Donnelly’s frigate snoring. Another crew member, Sarah Campbell if Samantha remembered correctly, was stretching and in the progress of walking out of the room.

“Unless you’re impervious to noise and have the top of the line ear plugs from the armory, there’s no way you’re getting any shut eye in here, Specialist Traynor,” Private Campbell said with a wink and then passed her.

“Uh, thanks,” Samantha managed before Campbell got too far away. Samantha watched her walk away, confused by her wink but then a rather bedraggled snore came from the dark depths of the crew quarters. Samantha sighed and turned on her heel and returned to the elevator.

_For the love of all things holy,_ Samantha thought frustratedly. _What in the universe could be blocking his airway to make that awful noise come out of his person as if amplified by a stadium of speakers?! I just want some bloody sleep. Is that **so** much to ask for?_

The elevator took slightly longer this time to come to her summon but when it arrived, she didn’t even know what level she wanted to go to. She thought of going to the cot on the engineering deck to try and sleep there, but then she decided she’d go and try to see Steve first.  

Samantha wondered on her descent to the shuttle bay if Steve was even still aboard the Normandy. It was possible that he’d gone ashore to go on a supply run, being the requisitions officer and all, or it was possible that he was actually getting some shut eye somewhere on the ship. Samantha didn’t have to wait long to see that neither were the case—as the elevator doors opened Samantha could see the sparks from Steve’s omni-tool sparking off of the rear thrusters of the Kodiak. She let out a soft sigh and walked off of the elevator and casually made her way up behind him.

She placed her uniformed boot down intentionally heavy, the connection to the shuttle bay floor echoing up and reverberating on the other metal surroundings. _No need to have him soter off a finger because I’ve spooked him,_ she thought.

Steve stopped and turned around at the hollow clunk of her foot fall. “Hey,” he said, powering down the welding tool from his omni-tool and touching the side of his head gear to make the protective face mask retract. “What brings you down here? I thought you’d be ass deep in emails until we hit Tuchanka.”

Samantha smiled and then came to a stop a few feet away from him, leaning on a few crates behind the Kodiak. “As much as I’d like to be arse deep in reports and intel, I’m still being babysat for my passing out mishap and am not allowed to work longer than ten hours in a solar day.”

“Oh,” Steve said simply before he sniffed and ran his left hand under his nose quickly, glancing towards the Kodiak.

Samantha blinked and regarded him more closely—his eyes were slightly red and there was a spot on the edge of his lip that looked raw, like he’d been chewing on it. There were even slight bags under his eyes, similar to those someone gets from lack of sleep, but his looked too puffy to simply be a side effect of poor sleeping habits. They seemed agitated, like someone who was suffering from allergies or had been crying.

_Wait…_ Samantha thought and considered everything she knew about him. _Has he been crying… shite._

“Everything alright, love?”

“Hmm?” Steve murmured, looking back to Samantha. “Yeah. ‘Course. Why?”

“You just seem…” Samantha stalled, selecting her next word cautiously as to not offend him. “Distracted,” she finally said looking from him to the Kodiak and back.

“Yeah—just lots to do,” Steve said dismissively and quickly. Too quickly.

Samantha let out a long sigh and pushed off from the crates that she was sitting on. “Steve? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just trying to square all this away before I go ashore for a bit.”

“Ashore?”

Steve nodded and then removed his head gear and started walking towards the requisitions table and his desk. “Yeah. Shepard said that the whole crew should get off the ship for a bit while we’re docked today to clear their heads. She sent out an email about it this morning.”

“Oh. Really?” Samantha asked.

“Yeah. Did you not get it?”

“Oh I probably did,” Samantha said as she moved to cross her arms over her stomach as they came to a stop by Steve’s desk. “But I’ve been ignoring a lot of non-high priority emails lately to work through the communications that have backlogged over my mandated R&R. I probably just overlooked it.”

Steve looked back at her and narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? That seems like a lousy restriction to continue to enforce right now given that we’re about to fly into a hot zone.”

“Well, it’s hard to tell your Commanding Officer that her ideas are shite because she just pulls the CO card and tells you to do it anyway,” Samantha said, shrugging. “Either that or she’ll say something that makes it sound like she’s worried about you and then you feel all guilty for taking up her mental capacity when you know she should be focused on the mission and not her lowly comm specialist who has a giant teenage infatuation with her,” she continued before she realized what she was really saying. Her cheeks flushed immediately when her words registered in her ears.

She was suddenly glad that it was only Steve in the shuttle bay. He was aware of some of the happenings between her and their illustrious Commander—not that she’d had a chance to go into any detailed stories. But this was Steve, he had even encouraged Samantha to act on her feelings; he wasn’t about to report her for saying things that insinuated fraternization.

Steve’s jaw clenched slightly and he sniffed loudly, quickly looking away from Samantha. He placed his head gear down on his desk and was suddenly enthralled with the clip, inspecting it between his fingers.

_The ruddy clip can’t be that interesting,_ she thought after watching him for a moment, the burning embarrassment in her cheeks quickly dissipating. _Normally he’d tease me about something… not do whatever **this** is,_ she continued to think as his fingers moved from inspecting the clip to inspecting the rim of the retracting unit.

“Steve,” she said softly, coming closer to him and placing a hand on his hand that was on the head piece. “What’s up?” she asked, continuing in the same soft tone as her fingers wrapped around his and stopped his hands from further inspecting the piece of equipment. She had to force herself not to smile, because it was something that Shepard did to her on several occasions.

_It isn’t time to be thinking about her,_ she thought and forced Shepard out of her head and caressed her thumb along the back of his hand, focusing one hundred percent on him.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his thumb and forefinger gripping Samantha’s pinky finger. Steve then looked away from his desk, turning his head to the side to look at the center of the empty shuttle bay. Samantha could see his temples pulsating as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Steve was quiet for several moments, the pulsating of his muscles never quite stopping. Samantha took another step forward and put her other hand on his arm and then finally he looked at her, but not meeting her eyes. She could see that his eyes were beginning to water.

“Shepard said that I should go to the war memorial wall in the refugee holding area today,” he said quietly. Samantha gave him a sad smile and then rubbed the outside of his upper arm. He continued. “She sent out an email this morning saying that all personnel should take a few hours to go ashore today while we’re docked, like I said… But she made a point of coming out of the med bay and flagged me down while I was in the mess and talked to me about going before we even got into Citadel space.”

Samantha chewed the inside of her lip as she listened. She waited for him to continue but he remained silent. Samantha put her arms loosely around him. “She must be worried about you,” she said after a few moments of just holding him.

“I do my job,” Steve said defensibly, moving away from her embrace.

“And you do it brilliantly, Steve honey,” Samantha said quickly, tightening her grip. “But if there is one thing I’ve learned about Shepard, it is that she’s really good about gauging people’s emotions.”

Steve looked down at her for a space of moments and then relaxed against her, bringing a hand up to cup the bottom of her elbow. “She’s quite an interesting leader, that’s for damn sure,” he said, almost bitterly.

“Do you not want to go?” Samantha asked, taking another step closer to him so she could hug him properly. She didn’t dare let him go. Not now.

“Would you?” he asked flatly.

“I’m not you, Steve. We all cope differently. For me, going somewhere like the war memorial would probably make me burst into tears,” she said. She tightened her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder and Steve finally wrapped his arms around her and gently pressed his forehead to the top of her head. “But after that, I might find motivation to do what needs to be done or to move on.”

Steve took in a deep breath and they stood there for several long moments, the two of them just breathing against each other. His thumbs made small contemplative rotations on her back as they stood together.

“I miss him, Sammy,” Steve said. His voice was so quiet and small that it made Samantha’s voice catch in her throat and she didn’t even care that he’d called her _Sammy,_ which normally she hated.

“I know you do, sweetie.” She tightened her arms around him again.

Steve sniffed loudly, his breathing becoming uneven.

_Is he crying?_ Samantha thought desperately and looked up at his face. There were tears forming in his eyes and a single line had started cascading from his left. His jaw was so tightly clenched that all of the muscles in his face were taut and a blood vessel in his forehead throbbed with his heartbeat.

Samantha moved, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Steve, look at me.”

He sniffed loudly and then slowly opened his eyes, letting loose a few tears and then looked at her, his lower lip quivering ever so slightly.

“You’re not alone here,” she said softly, caressing his cheekbones with either of her thumbs. She used her left thumb to catch a newly fallen tear and wipe it away. “And we’re all worried about you. James even came up to me a few days ago to tell me that he was worried about you. Shepard is worried about you too. She wants you at your best—not for the missions’ sake, but for your own sake.”

Steve let out a singular laugh and then sniffed loudly. “You honestly think that Commander Shepard is concerned about me more than how it affects the mission?”

“I know she does,” Samantha said, dropping her hands from his face to rest on his shoulders. “She worries about you. She’s told me herself. If she was only focused on the mission for the missions’ sake, she wouldn’t have locked you out of the systems to force you to have down time a few days ago with me.”

Steve swallowed hard and then looked again towards the middle of the shuttle bay. He sniffed and then brought a hand up to his face to wipe away the residual tears and then under his nose as he sniffed again. Samantha stood there, her hands still on his shoulders waiting for him to say something.

He took in a deep breath and let it out shakily. He looked back down to Samantha, their honeyed eyes meeting. “I don’t think I can do it,” he said simply.

“I’ll go with you,” she said before thinking it through. She’d do anything for Steve—but she hadn’t been trying to be sarcastic when she said she’d probably burst into tears. But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was helping Steve through the rough patch he was in. And if that meant getting him to the memorial wall, then that’s what she’d do. Sleep could wait. A massage could wait. Hell, the war could wait.

“Really?” Steve asked. “Were you planning on going ashore?”

“I hadn’t been planning on it,” she admitted but tightened her grip on his shoulders. “But I will go with you. You’re my gay husband, remember?” She winked at him, referring to how the retrofit team used to tease them about always being together.

Steve gave her a half smile and then wrapped his arms around Samantha in a loose hug around her waist. “Thank you.”

Her hands moved from his shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck, hugging him back. The hug wasn’t as emotional as the one they had previously been in. It was a hug that Samantha was actually familiar with—this is how they used to hug all of the time before the reapers invaded and the ship went active.

Steve’s hands dropped from her waist and he took a step back, making Samantha’s hands fall away. “I should probably tiddy up a little before we head out,” he said, looking at his desk. “Why weren’t you going to go ashore?” he asked as he stepped back closer to his desk and grabbed the few tools that he had out to begin putting them away.

Samantha shrugged. “I didn’t see the email from Shepard, to be honest.”

Steve paused and eyed her before he moved the tools into a drawer that had outlines of them taped to the bottom of the drawers. Steve was one of the most organized people she knew.

“Seriously? Don’t you spend the better part of your shift sifting through emails?”

“I probably just overlooked it. Since I’m only allowed to work for ten solar hours in a day, I have to be choosy about what I open and read before I get booted out of the systems.”

“Wait… you get booted out of the systems at **_exactly_** ten hours?” Steve asked as he closed the drawer with the tools neatly stowed.  

“Mhm,” Samantha murmured. “EDI has taken up Shepard’s mantel and has been kicking me out of the systems at promptly ten hours of work in a single solar day. It’s frustrating,” she sighed as she leaned against Steve’s desk. “I feel like I can’t get anything done.”

“On the contrary, Specialist Traynor,” EDI’s voice echoed from the ceiling, causing both Samantha and Steve to flinch and look around before realizing that EDI wasn’t physically there. “Your report times have decreased by an average of six minutes since we entered the Ninmah Cluster four and a half solar days ago. You’ve accomplished—”

“It’s a phrase EDI,” Samantha smiled, the shock from hearing EDI beginning to dwindle.

“But to insinuate that you are not accomplishing your duties is inaccurate.”

Samantha sighed. “Do you listen to everyone’s conversations, EDI? Or just the boring ones?”

“When my processing power is not preoccupied with being on ground missions with Shepard, I can hear everything on the ship, Specialist Traynor.”

“That’s a bit creepy,” Samantha said as she looked up at the ceiling, making a slight frown.

“I bet she gets all the juicy stories, though.” Steve joked.

Samantha looked at him and smiled. _There’s my Steve,_ she thought.

“I do, Lieutenant Cortez. Like the exchange between Specialist Traynor and Commander Shepard on the engineering deck five and a half solar days ago.”

Samantha’s cheeks flushed. _She heard that?!_

Steve grinned and then crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling. “Oh? And how was it a juicy story, EDI?”

“Although I am not permitted to relay the exchange, as that would be a violation of my ethics coding, I will say that my scans indicated elevated heat levels in various erogenous zones on Spec—”

“T-thank you EDI!” Samantha blurted. “That’s **quite** enough.”

“Understood.” The AI then fell quiet.

_You’ve got to be sodding kidding me right now, EDI. Does she have a “let’s embarrass Traynor” chip installed?_ Samantha thought as she could feel her cheeks and ears continue to flush with heat.

She was glad that it was only her and Steve in the shuttle bay, and not typical crew that was usually calibrating things in the corner opposite Steve’s station or the crew that liked to work over by the hanger doors. _That would have been bloody mortifying_ , she thought.

_More so than you asking Shepard how she feels about you?_

_Oh for the love of—_

“Elevated heat levels in various erogenous zones, eh?” Steve teased, speaking slowly and his eyebrows raising suggestively.

“Oh shut it!” she responded as she brought a hand up to cover her forehead, which was hot to the touch, further confirming that her face was probably as red as a tomato.

Steve laughed, the sound of it echoing throughout the shuttle bay. Samantha looked up to see him smiling and laughing at her. He was genuinely laughing, his shoulders moving with the jostles of his chuckles and his eyes closed tight. One of his hands moved from their crossed posture to rest on his stomach. He was laughing at her, not with her.

And she was okay with it. _I’ll be the butt of any joke if it means it puts a smile on his face,_ Samantha thought, bringing her hand away from her face and smiling at him.

“Well, now I feel like I should run screaming away from the ship,” she said as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Steve’s laughter tapered off, but the smile remained on his face. “What? Can’t handle EDI calling you out on your shameless teenage infatuation with your Commanding Officer?”

“Steve!” Samantha said sternly, but playfully. “Not while she’s listening!”

“I’m always listening, Specialist Traynor.” EDI interjected, causing Samantha to flinch more violently this time, her hands going above her head as if she was ducking from something.

“Oh sweet asari tits, EDI. Really!?”

Steve laughed again and then let out a loud exhale to calm his laughter. They shared a look before he nodded, his face turning a little more serious. “Alright. Let me just grab something real quick and we’ll go ashore so you can escape EDI’s onslaught.”

_Right. The memorial wall._ She nodded and tried to keep her smile and humorous tone. “Oh please, let’s! I fear if we stay much longer she’ll short out her ethics chip and divulge all of our embarrassingly shameless acts aboard the ship.”

“I think you’re probably the only one worth hearing about,” Steve winked. “All that one on one time you get with our Commanding Officer.”

“Oh I’m sure Garrus has some juicy tid bits. One can only calibrate something so many times—it’s **definitely** code for something.”

“Garrus Vakarian spends an average of eight hours in a solar day calibrating various weaponry aboard the ship,” EDI sounded again.

Samantha chuckled and then looked to Steve. “I’ll go grab my bag. Meet you up top in five?”

“Sounds good.”

* * *

The nurse had made good on his word and there was a fresh set of Alliance casual wear sitting on the bench. They were still in plastic from the Alliance store room. Shepard made quick work of getting dressed and then pulled her hair back into a pony tail after running a towel through it quickly. It wasn’t like she was on the citadel to impress anyone today.

The clothing fit just like her old pair. He must have used her name when he went to the Alliance depot and they pulled her size from the registry. She transferred the contents that she’d pulled from her pockets into the new pair of pants and then put her old clothes in the biohazard incinerator bin. There was too much blood on them to even try and save them.

Her dog tags were clean, as she’d showered with them on to try and get any blood off of them. She tucked them under her shirt and then walked out of the nurses’ station. She wanted to put as much distance between her and the smell of this place as she could.

As she walked through the intensive care unit, she couldn’t help but stop and glance at the room she knew Grunt to be in. The glass around the room was opaque to provide privacy, but Shepard could see silhouettes moving behind the glass. Thankfully there wasn’t any frantic yelling or crashing that could be heard through the door. Shepard’s eyes then followed the wall as she continued walking and they landed on Ashley’s room.

_It couldn’t hurt to say hi,_ she thought.

The door slid opened and Shepard immediately saw that Ashley’s bed was empty and that Ashley was standing in front of the wall that was a large window overlooking the presidium. The Lieutenant turned her head at the sound of the door, looking just over her shoulder.

“Skipper,” she said, turning around and dropping her hands from their crossed position over her stomach. “I heard that they brought in a krogan and thought you might be here accompanying them.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said quietly. “Mind if I come in?”

“’Course,” Ashley said immediately. “Lord knows I could use the distraction.”

Shepard stepped through and the doors shut behind her. She slid her hands into her pockets as she walked, hoping to hide the scrapes and bruising on her right hand from punching the shower wall. She didn’t have to worry, though, as Ashley turned to look out the window, which Shepard found strange. Normally they’d hug or they’d immediately start teasing each other. But Ashley seemed to be extremely contemplative over something as she looked out the window and began to chew the corner of her lip paying little attention to Shepard’s movements.

“It’s good to see you up and around,” she started, trying to engage Ashley in conversation.

“Yeah…” Ashley said, her voice tapering off and her arms going back over her stomach.

Shepard stopped right beside her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was still flat, almost disheartened.  She blinked and turned her head to face Shepard’s. “Oh—I took Udina’s offer.”

“For Spectre status?” Ashley nodded. “Congratulations, Ash. You deserve it.”

The dark haired newly appointed Spectre gave a half smile and shook her head slightly. “Seems small compared to what’s going on,” she said as she turned to face the window again. Her tone continued to be glum and distracted.

Shepard stared at Ashley for a few moments, chewing the inside of her cheek as she tried to gage what was bothering her. She knew that she personally was a bit off on her conversational game as she was still trying to force her flashback from the shower out of her mind, but this was the first time she could remember the two of them interacting like this, the Cerberus confrontations aside. Even with the tense conversations they’d had while Shepard was working with Cerberus and thereafter, they’d never had conversations before that seemed to be as forced as this.

“You ready for the responsibility of a Spectre?” Shepard asked, probing to see if maybe Ashley was feeling uneasy about the promotion.

“It doesn’t feel real yet. Maybe it’ll sink in,” Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know what duties I’ll have. Everything’s a mess right now.” She took in a deep breath and let it out, shaking her head and looking back out the window. “What do you think of all this?” she asked quietly.

“You’re a fine soldier with an impressive record, Ash. You deserve this! Udina is an idiot for not offering it to you sooner.”

“Thanks,” she paused and then turned her body to face Shepard’s. She gave her a small smile. “That means a lot coming from you. He said we’ll have the official ceremony soon… once I’m out of here,” she said and her smile disappeared and she looked down, away from Shepard’s face.

“And after? Any plans to come back to the Normandy?” Shepard continued to probe, hoping to not lose the momentum of their conversation that still seemed forced.

“I guess that’s up to Udina,” Ashley responded flatly.

Shepard clenched her jaw. “Do you not want to come back to the Normandy?”

“What—” She stopped and then looked back to meet Shepard’s eyes. “Of course I do, Skipper. I know that if I’m aboard the Normandy I’ll actually be doing something to help win this damn war.”

“Then why do you seem so apathetic about it?”

“Shepard…” She opened her mouth and then closed it, biting her lip. “It’s just…” She took in a deep breath and put her hands on her waist and looked down, away from Shepard again.

“Ash, what’s going on?” Shepard asked softly, stepping forward and reaching out to cup Ashley’s shoulder with her left hand, keeping her right hand hidden in her pocket.

“I heard from my mom,” she started, not looking up to meet Shepard’s gaze. “They got out in time. They’re ok.”

“Good!” Shepard said, gently squeezing Ashley’s shoulder and moving her head to try and meet her eyes. “That’s good news…”

“It is.” Ashley swallowed hard and intentionally looked sideways, further avoiding Shepard’s eyes.

Shepard took a step closer to her, her hand moving from Ashley’s shoulder to the outside of her bicep. “Did you sister make it to the Citadel?”

“She did… but,” Ashley paused, her eyes beginning to water. “Her husband was killed in action.”

Shepard’s mouth opened with an inaudible gasp. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

Ashley sniffed loudly, but the well of tears in her eyes were increasing. “Yeah… Sarah wasn’t much for the military life. We were all surprised when they got married. They hadn’t even been married a month. And this damn war… the damn reapers… tore them apart.” Her hands moved from her waist and balled into fists and she closed her eyes, a single tear escaping both eyes. “I should have told them to make sure their communications channels were shut off so they could enjoy their honey moon without any interruptions. Then he might not have been called back… and… and…”

Shepard moved her left arm to wrap around Ashley’s shoulders and her hand to go up into her hair and moved her right hand out of her pocket to move her arm around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug. She pulled Ashley’s head into her own shoulder and shushed her. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

 “I’m her big sis, Skipper. I’m supposed to protect her,” she said, her voice uneven.

“There’s only so much you can do, Ash. It isn’t your fault that the reapers hit earth. It isn’t your fault that he was called back.” Shepard tightened her grip around her best friend.

Ashley finally moved her hands and wrapped them around Shepard’s waist and took in a long inhale. “In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeoning of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.”

Shepard smiled against her hair, rubbing her right hand gently on Ashley’s lower back. “What’s that from?” she asked softly.

“Invictus, by Henley… one of my dad’s sappy poets.” Ashley gave a sad laugh and began to move back, bringing a hand up to her face to wipe away the fallen tears she’d shed while resting against Shepard’s shoulder.

Shepard moved her hands to either side of Ashley’s shoulders. “It’s about not giving up.”

Ashley smiled, rubbing the remaining tears out of her eyes and then let out a long breath. “And since when do you analyze nineteenth century poetry?”

“Since you started spouting it at me,” Shepard smiled and dropped her hands from Ashley’s shoulders. She moved her right hand back into her pocket. “You think I don’t pay attention?”

Ashley laughed, and it wasn’t sad. It was her usual, humorous laugh that Shepard still loved hearing. “You only paid attention so you could spout the romantic crap back to me.”

“Hey! You’ve got to give me credit for trying to impress you.” Shepard smiled and then winked playfully at the dark haired lieutenant.

Ashley shook her head and met Shepard’s eyes finally. Although she was smiling, her face was serious. “I’m glad that we’re still friends, Skipper.”

“Me too. I’d be lost in this universe without you to make fun of me!”

“That’s for damn sure.”

The two shared a smile and then Shepard glanced out the window. Sky cars were streaking underneath Heurta. Looking out at the rest of the Citadel from this view, one would never know that a war was raging on other planets. Here everything was perfect. The fountains with their memorial statues as center pieces continued to spout water in beautiful cascades, causing rainbow reflections. The plant life was blooming, vibrant, and plentiful. Traffic was its usual chaotic pattern that you only understood after living and driving in the Citadel for a few months.

What Shepard wouldn’t have done to have this view when she had been stationed in the psych ward all those years ago. She would have been able to sit and count cars from her bed and not have break out onto restricted balconies. Although that wouldn’t have helped with the smell issue.

“So what’s wrong with your right hand?” Ashley asked, pulling Shepard’s thoughts back into the room.

Shepard blinked and then looked to Ashley. “Huh?”

“Your right hand. What’s wrong with it?”

Shepard clenched her right hand inside her pocket and then had to force herself from not plunging it deeper. “Nothing. Why?”

Ashley raised an eyebrow at her. “Because it’s been deep in your pocket since you walked in here,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and put most of her weight on her right leg, accentuating the left side of her hip. “Let me see it.”

Shepard waved her left hand dismissively. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Great. Then let me see it.”

Shepard frowned and pursed her lips. “Ash, don’t be absurd. There’s nothing—” Shepard was interrupted by Ashley moving forward suddenly and gripping her right forearm. “Hey!”

Ashley’s grip was firm, but not painful, and she pulled Shepard’s arm up, exposing her hand from her pocket. She then grabbed her right hand with hers and brought it up to inspect. When her eyes landed on Shepard’s knuckles she gave a low whistle and raised bother of her eyebrows. Shepard’s knuckles were slightly swollen and the knuckles for her middle, forefinger, and pinky finger had open scrapes over them and were beginning to show bruising.

“Who the hell did you punch?”

“I didn’t punch anyone.” Shepard said hotly, trying to move her hand away but Ashley tightened her grip on her forearm.

“Okay… then **_what_** the hell did you punch?”

“Nothing,” Shepard lied and looked out the window, clenching her jaw tightly.

“Don’t lie to me, Skipper.”

Shepard looked back at Ashley who was waiting expectantly for an answer. Shepard groaned. “Fi-ine. I punched the wall while I was showering in the nurses’ station. Happy?”

Ashley frowned and then let go of Shepard’s hand. “Okay… two questions.” She placed her left hand on her hip and then raised her right hand, and with each question she raised a finger. “Why were you showering in the hospital and why did you punch the wall?”

“Because I was covered in Grunt’s—the krogan I came in with, I was covered in his blood,” Shepard said and both of her arms crossing loosely over her stomach. “A nurse offered the showers to me and got me a new set of clothing so I wasn’t running around the citadel looking like a maniac.”

“Well that makes sense,” Ashley nodded and then brought her right hand down to rest on her hip. “So… why’d you punch the wall?”

“Because it…” Shepard paused and let out a frustrated sigh and looked out the window again. She bit the inside of her lip and wished that she didn’t have to retell what had happened. But she knew that Ashley wouldn’t drop it. She was notorious for getting Shepard to talk about the things that haunted her. It wasn’t that it was bad, it was just that Shepard had fallen out of practice of having these conversations with her. They used to have them aboard the Normandy SR1 all of the time once they became close. It was easy to talk to her and she always felt better afterwards. But it had been almost three years since they stopped working together—even if two of it Shepard was unconscious and being rebuilt.

She let out another sigh. “It smelled sterile,” she finally said but stayed looking out the window.

“Sterile?”

“Yeah,” she clenched her jaw and then looked back to Ashley but didn’t make eye contact with her. “Like how the psych ward that I was locked up in smelled.”

Ashley pursed her lips. “You weren’t lock up, Skipper. You were there to heal.”

“I felt like more of a prisoner there than I did when I was under house arrest on earth.”

“Okay—so the place smelled like the psych ward,” Ashley said, not falling for Shepard’s attempt to get her off topic. “That provokes punches now?”

“No. I—I just,” Shepard let out an exacerbated sigh. “I had a flashback and it was the only thing I could think to do to get it to stop.”

Ashley made a silent _ah_ and then was quiet for a few moments before asking, “What was it a flashback of?”

Before she could stop herself, Shepard ground her teeth and clenched her jaw. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Damnit, Ash. Why do you always do this?”

Ashley moved forward to wrap her arms around Shepard’s shoulders, hugging her gently. The smell of her hair washing over Shepard and calming her down a little. “Because you won’t talk to anyone else, remember?” She moved back so that her hands were atop Shepard’s shoulder but was looking at her, her expression semi-serious. “So spill it.”

“It was the night that I killed Dr. Dalinari,” Shepard said quietly after several long moments. She shoved then her hands back in her pockets and continued to avoid Ashley’s eyes.

“You make it sound like you murdered her and—”

“I basically did!” Shepard said loudly, taking a step away from Ashley.

“No, you didn’t! It was an accident,” Ashley fired back, not letting Shepard stepping away break her grasp on her shoulders. She tightened her grip and stepped forward with her. “I’ve said it before, but you couldn’t help it, Skipper. What that doctor did to you was unprofessional at best. You weren’t near ready to even talk about what had happened to you, let alone have some alien invade your brain and force you to show her the memory!”

Shepard let out a short laugh. “Ash, your xenophobia is showing again.”

Ashley smiled and then let go of Shepard and gently punched her on the shoulder, the tension in the air lessening almost instantly. She then shook her head and put a hand under Shepard’s chin and forced her to meet her gaze. “You know what I meant. It was one of your first times dealing with the asari. You didn’t even know that they could do that.”

Shepard looked into Ashley’s brown eyes that were a few shades darker than Samantha’s and was lost there for a moment. She had a twinge in her stomach, similar to many times before when she looked at Ashley. This was a woman that she’d been head over heels with for three years. She thought she’d let the feelings go, but there it was again in the pit of her chest. She closed her eyes momentarily to break the eye contact and let out a long breath and Ashley let go of her chin. As soon as her eyes closed the feeling vanished.

She would always love the woman, she knew that. Ashley knew her too well and knew how to handle her no matter the situation they found themselves in. She was her rock and could read her, **_accurately_** read her. She could gage when she was okay and knew when she wasn’t, when she was just trying to save face, and when she wasn’t being honest even with herself.

_She’s my best friend,_ Shepard thought. _It’s okay to love your best friend the way that I love her, right? And besides… I keep comparing Samantha to her… that’s got to mean something… right?_

Before Shepard could say anything to continue their conversation, a ping sounded from her omni-tool. She looked down and activated it without a second thought. It wasn’t like she was keen to continue the line of conversation.

It turned out that she had two emails, one from Samantha and another from EDI. She read Samantha’s first and found herself smiling. Even in professional emails the Specialist wriggled in humor somehow.

_She must have been infuriating to deal with at basic,_ she found herself thinking fondly.

She opened EDI’s email and her smile waned. 

[[Commander,

Alliance Operatives have delivered a memorial wall to the ship and are inquiring where it should be erected. Is there a location that you have previously designated or would you like Jeff to determine the placement?

EDI]]

Shepard let out a long breath and then immediately started typing up a response. She had envisioned the memorial wall going opposite the elevator on the crew deck.

“Is that your British girlfriend?” Ashley teased.

Shepard looked up from the middle of her message to see Ashley looking at her, her arms crossed over her stomach and her hip jutting out again with a playful smirk on her face. 

“No, It’s EDI,” she half lied as she finished typing the email and sent it. She powered down her omni-tool and looked back to Ashley. “And Samantha is not my girlfriend, Ash.”

“What, you haven’t sealed the deal yet?” Ashley smiled. “I thought lesbians moved at light speed.”

Shepard scoffed at her. “With what time would I _seal the deal_?”

Ashley shrugged. “Hell if I know. I don’t know what you do while you’re in flight. I’m sure there’s some down time where you could wriggle into her… heart.” Ashley winked after her intentional pause. Shepard just laughed softly and shook her head. “Are you at least working on what you promised me?”

“What, opening up more?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Shepard shrugged and crossed her arms over her stomach again. “It’s weird though.”

“Okay—tell me what you’ve opened up about.”

“Really, Ash? You want to hear about this?”

“I do indeed.” Ashley smiled. “It’s great entertainment to watch her talk about her.”

Shepard gave her a flat expression. “How is it entertaining?”

“It just is. Now—answer the damn question,” Ashley said easily side stepping Shepard’s deflection. “What have you opened up about?”

“Uh… I dunno,” Shepard said, moving her weight back onto her right foot and tapping her stomach with one of her thumbs. “We talked about how my parents decided on my name,” she finally recalled.

“Good start… anything else?”

_Good god, she’s not going to let this go, is she?_ Shepard thought and looked at Ashley continuing amused face. “Err… I told her about how Jack and I became friends.”

“You’re trying to open up to her by talking about other women? That’s real classy, Skipper.”

“Hey! Do you remember how long it took me to open up to you?” Shepard said defensively.

“Yeah. Like a month at most. You’re a couple weeks in at this point. Get to it!”

Shepard frowned and then tried to recall what else she and Samantha had done. It had been a while since she’d even spoken with the honey skinned specialist. The last time they spoke was after the tactical meeting before they hit the Ninmah Cluster and a lot had happened since then, especially with Grunt in the med bay. She hadn’t thought about anything else on the two day flight back to Citadel space aside from being worried about Steve when she saw him crying over a datapad in the mess while most of the rest of the crew were in their bunks. It was what prompted her to send an email to the crew to go ashore today.

“Well… we both admitted to being lesbians,” Shepard offered and then smiled, remember how Samantha had actually made her blush after they came out to each other. “Ever since then, I’ve been a little more physically open with her. Does that count?”

“That’s a great step, knowing that she’s actually into women,” Ashley teased, offering a wink. “But what do you mean by being more physically open?”

“Well… we had a thumb war and kind of held hands…”

“What are you, five?!”

Shepard playfully glared at her, but continued. “Um… I frequently put my hands on hers when she’s nervous and fidgeting… I reach out and touch her shoulder a lot…”

“Skipper, you do that with most of your crew. How is it any different with her?”

“Uh… Oh—I was hiding from Chawkas and basically forced her into my lap behind a stack of totes.”

“Really, how have you stayed single all these years?” Ashley said flatly, but smirk playing on the edge of her lips. “I mean, forcing her to hide with you from an adult like you’re in high school? Claaasic move, that one.”

Shepard frowned. “Well… Alright, fine. There was one mission where I needed her on the comms channel and she wasn’t at her duty station. I was on the ground on Sur’Kesh and we were attacked out of nowhere by Cerberus.”

“Cerberus bastards,” Ashley muttered.

Shepard smiled, but continued, determined to articulate that actual progress was being made with Samantha and that she wasn’t just treating her like any member of her crew. “Anyway, I kept hailing Joker to get Traynor on the comms but it never happened. We finally finished the mission and I was boarding the shuttle and told Joker that he and Traynor were to meet me in war room. He told me that I could yell at him all I wanted but Traynor was unconscious in the med bay.”

“What?! What happened?”

“Turns out that she hasn’t been eating right or sleeping well and had a fainting spell in the shower. But I stripped my armor off in the Kodiak and then ran to the med bay as soon as Cortez opened the Kodiak doors. Chakwas put down the privacy screen after I got there and I don’t think I ever really stopped touching her. I even hugged her for a really long time. Told her to not scare me again because I needed her.”

“You might as well have told her that you love her,” Ashley winked.

“Remind me why we’re friends?”

Ashley flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Because you can’t get enough of me.”

They both laughed. Any residual tension from the awkward start to their encounter completely gone as the two just laughed with each other. It was good. And this was why Shepard wanted Ashley back aboard the Normandy. She kept her grounded, kept her honest, and kept her healthy in a manner of speaking.

Even though Shepard had finally moved on from her feelings for Ashley, she knew that sleek haired lieutenant would always be in her life. She still loved Ashley, but now she knew that it wasn’t romantically.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that there’s at least some kind of progress between you two.”

Shepard genuinely smiled. “It’s something.”

“You’re getting more comfortable with her, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah. I’m still a bit worried that I’ll scare her off, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s me we’re talking about, Ash. I’ve got,” she paused and ran her left hand over her hair. “…issues.”

“You’re a career military who has done more for this galaxy than anyone else alive!” Ashley immediately retorted. “You have experiences that have shaped you, and maybe haunt you, but that doesn’t mean you have **_issues_** , Skipper.”

Shepard smirked again, but this time it was a little sad. “However you look at it… you know I get lost in my head sometimes. It can be hard to talk to me when I’m like that.”

“Then tell her.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at her. “Tell her what?”

“Exactly that—that you know that you can be hard to talk to at times because of things you’ve been through. Being open about it with her will make it easier for her to understand what’s going on with you.”

“When did you become a couple’s counselor?”

“I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Shepard let out a short laugh and shook her head. “She’s not.”

“Rii—”

Ashley was cut off by the sounds of the doors to her room sliding open. The two women turned and Shepard’s eyes landed on a girl that she’d only ever seen in pictures before.

“Sarah,” Ashley started. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to come see you. Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Shepard said, waving a hand at her. “I was actually just about to excuse myself.”

“You’re Commander Shepard,” Sarah said, her hands coming together in front of her stomach.

“The one and only,” Shepard made a small bow out of jest, putting her right arm to her stomach and extending her left out, resulting in a smack to the shoulder from Ashley.

“Ashley’s told me so much about you! I told her to invite you to my wedding…” her eyes suddenly dropped and it looked like her words were caught in her throat.

Shepard glanced at Ashley, who was grimacing. She mouthed “sorry” and then started walking towards Sarah.

“Oh I wasn’t able to make it,” Shepard said and started walking forward as well. “I was a guest at Alliance HQ and wasn’t allowed to leave.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Sarah responded meekly.

Shepard waved her hand down, as if dismissing the fact. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t make it. Ashley told me it was lovely,” Shepard said, even though she and Ashely hadn’t talked about it at all.

Sarah nodded and then swallowed hard and then looked to Ashley.

“Come here,” Ashley said softly, pulling her baby sister into her arms. Sarah instantly went into her arms, her face hiding in Ashley’s shoulder. Ashley glanced to Shepard from over Sarah’s head and mouthed “thank you” to her.

Ashley hadn’t invited her to the wedding, but Shepard wasn’t going to hold it against her and she wasn’t about to tell Ashley’s sister that they hadn’t been on speaking terms when she got married. There was no reason to bring it up now. Not when Sarah was mourning the loss of her husband.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Sarah sniffed, moving away from Ashley.

“It’s quite alright. Ashley told me what happened.” Shepard moved forward and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear about your husband.”

Sarah nodded, bringing a hand up to catch a newly fallen tear. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Well, I will leave you two to it,” Shepard said, using her other hand to clap Ashley on the shoulder. “Message me when you can, okay?”

“Will do, Skipper.” Ashley smiled sadly, her hand going up to clasp Shepard’s lingering one. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anytime.” She looked to Sarah and squeezed her shoulder. “It was nice meeting you.”

Sarah nodded and was quiet for a moment. “I… I know you didn’t know him… and you’re probably really busy... But would you come to his memorial, Commander? It’d mean a lot to him. He really admired you.”

Ashley blinked suddenly, looking between her sister and Shepard.

_He admired you… and you’re the reason he’s dead,_ Shepard’s other voice chimed in maliciously.

Shepard smiled at Sarah, ignoring her subconscious self, and gently rubbed the outside of her arm. “Of course. I’d be more than happy to be there.”

Sarah smiled halfheartedly and then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Ash, you’ll keep me posted, yeah?”

“Of course, Skipper,” Ashley said as she smiled. The two then shared a look, a look that expressed that they were thankful for each other.

“Alright,” Shepard nodded to Ashely. “I’ll let you two catch up. I’ll see you two soon.”

“Thanks again for stopping by,” Ashley said as gently placed her hand on Shepard’s back.

Shepard nodded to the two women and then walked out of the room, the doors automatically opening when she got into close proximity. As the doors closed behind her she stopped and let out a long breath, bringing her hands up to run atop her hair.

_That poor girl,_ she thought.

_Had you been more persuasive to the council three years ago, you could have saved her from this misery, Jane._

Shepard’s jaw clenched. _So every death right now is my fault?_

_Of course it is. You weren’t convincing enough. You weren’t fast enough. And because of the stunt you pulled in the Batak system, you couldn’t even help prepare earth for the reapers._

Shepard’s right hand clenched and dove deep into her pocket. She could feel the joints in her knuckles grinding at the amount of force she exerted on herself.

_So none of the blame lies with the councilors who failed to act?_

_No—because you weren’t convincing enough, Jane. Get it through your skull. You’re the reason this whole war is happening. You’re the reason that thousands of people are dying each day. You could have stopped it, but you only delayed it._

She ran her left hand down her face, trying to force the muscles around her jaw to relax. Then her nose caught a whiff of the sterile soap from her earlier shower. If she had hackles they would have raised at the scent but instead she took her right hand and positioned it so that her fingernails dug into her palm and squeezed her fist shut tighter. She took a moment to count to ten and breathe.

_I need a drink,_ she thought. She let out another long breath, her right hand still clasped tightly in her pocket and then turned on her heel to leave the hospital.

* * *

_Blimey… I didn’t realize that the reapers had affected so many people,_ Samantha thought, unconsciously stepping closer to Steve as they walked through the doors to the docks’ holding bay and temporary refugee housing.

They moved past the long line of waiting refugees, their Normandy identification granting them instant clearance without question. _One of the perks of being a member of Shepard’s team I guess,_ she thought as she forced herself to look away from a young woman holding an infant while a toddler clung to her leg. Samantha wondered if they were the girl’s children or siblings. She forced herself to look away from them so that her mind wouldn’t start down the trail of possible scenarios that were bound to upset her.

It was apparent that the galactic state was in decline and disrepair just from the sheer volume of refugees and the bedraggled look of everyone in the area from, citadel staff to the individual refugees. Refugees were being set up in and above what looked like shipping containers and some shipping containers had been stacked two or three high with ladders to get to the various levels. Cots had been set up everywhere, most of which had a pillow on each end, and most of the currently occupied narrow cots had two people sleeping in each of them. Several different areas were also set up, seemingly creating an unintentional or maybe intentional segregation by species. Most people looked like they hadn’t showered in several days—oily hair, dirty faces, and stained clothing being some of the indicators. The conditions were appalling, but there was still a long line of refugees waiting to be admitted.

As Samantha and Steve walked further into the area, she heard a pair of c-sec officers speaking in hushed voices about the citadel reaching close to its max capacity for resource reasons and that they would have to start turning people away soon. It made Samantha’s stomach churn at the thought of so many people being turned away from shelter. She understood that the Citadel didn’t have unlimited resources and that it was only logistics. There were days, like today, that she hated that logistics were so sound and a good enough reason to overlook the morality or ethics of turning people away. It was a harsh truth and one she was glad that she didn’t have to be a part of the decision making for.

They rounded a corner and Samantha halted suddenly when she saw the memorial wall. Steve stopped with her and they looked at the large wall covered in pictures and personal items, ranging from toys, books, jewelry, knickknack statuettes, and candles, just to name a few. Samantha found her breath caught in her throat when she saw a rag doll bunny slumped on the corner of the wall.

Steve took in a sharp breath, causing Samantha to pull her eyes from the slumped bunny to him. A single tear had already rolled down his check, his eyes glued to the wall. Glancing down Samantha could see that his knuckles had turned white as he clutched the datapad in his hand. Instinctively, Samantha put one of her hands on his back and then brought her other hand up to brush her fingers over his knuckles.

“You okay?”

“Would you be?” he asked quietly as he let his pinky finger wrap around Samantha’s.

Samantha blinked and looked back at the wall and the ragged bunny. It looked uncannily similar to a rag doll that a little girl she had played with at a park on the day of the collector attack on Horizon had had. Her chest grew tight and she forced herself to let out a slow breath and blinked again, forcing her eyes not to begin watering. “No, I s’pose not.”

Steve took in a deep, long breath and squeezed Samantha’s finger. “It’s just a bunch of junk…” he started. “Why is this so hard?”

Samantha moved the hand that was on his back to around his waist, pulling him into a tight side hug. “It isn’t junk, Steve. They are treasured possessions with strong associations to loved ones.”

Samantha saw over a dozen people sitting or standing closer to the wall, several of them mirrored Samantha and Steve: one person holding the other as they looked at expansive wall of memorabilia. A stout volus held an asari who was visibly weeping while they sat on a bench; a male salarian was rubbing the shoulders of a male human in what looked to be colonial attire; two females, a turian and a human, holding onto each other as their shoulders shook together in an erratic rhythm; a hanar putting a sympathetic tentacle on the back of an elcor as they both stood and stared at the wall in silence.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Samantha bit her lip before responding. She was quiet for several moments as she looked back to the bunny doll. She was beginning to think that it was the exact doll that the little girl from Horizon had had. She let out a quick breath and then physically turned towards Steve, bringing both of her hands up to his upper arms, turning him to face her.

“Robert loved you,” she started. “He would want you to be happy and move on. Holding onto that transmission won’t let you do that. He didn’t want to be an anchor—that wasn’t why he called you when he did.” She paused and searched Steve’s face, but his face was beginning to contort in an effort to stop crying. She squeezed him a little and continued. “He called you because he wanted your voice to be the last thing he heard. He wanted you to know that he loves you. He didn’t want to haunt you.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and a blood vessel in his temple pulsated, unfallen tears glistened in his eyes. “Goddammit… I miss him.”

“I know, sweetie. I know you do.”

Steve took in a shaky breath and let it out as a tear released and stained his shirt.

“You can do this. You’ll never replace him. You’ll always love him, but it is okay to let him go.”

Steve nodded and glanced towards the wall.

“Do you want me to put the datapad up there for you?”

“No… I have to do it.” He wiped away another escaped tear with the back of his hand and then nodded. After taking in one more deep breath, as if bracing himself, he nodded again and then began moving towards the wall.

Samantha let her hands stay on him until he moved out of her reach.

_I can’t imagine how hard this is for him…_

_Yes you can… you watched half of your colony get abducted._

_That’s different._

_How?_

Samantha wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned on a nearby pillar as she watched Steve slowly walk up to the wall. Her eyes landed on the bunny doll again. She remembered that the little girl had been in the park by her parents’ living pod. She had grass stains on the front of her dress, an immaculately done braid that kept her blonde hair out of her face, exposing a few dirt stains on her cheek as she played with the bunny, making it hop from one flower bed to the next. Samantha had been on her way to see a friend from high school but was running fairly early. So she had gone up to the girl and asked if her bunny had a name. The little girl went on to tell her how the bunny was named Carrot and how he was her bestest friend ever and that he liked to wear dressed and didn’t care what other boy bunnies thought. She then proceeded to stay and play and talk with the little girl until she received an omni call from her friend asking her where she was.

_I didn’t lose anyone I loved. My family and friends all made it out._

_But hundreds of people died._

Samantha looked away from the bunny, trying to ignore what looked an identical grass stain to one that Carrot had had on his dress and feet.

_It’s still different… I’m just haunted by what ifs for complete strangers… Steve lost his soul mate._

Samantha sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. She had to pull herself together. Right now she needed to be a rock for Steve. She needed to be the one to hold him together through this, not fall apart herself.

“It’s good to see you here with him,” Shepard said from Samantha’s left.

Samantha jumped, visibly startled and flinched away before looking to her left where Shepard had suddenly materialized only a few inches behind her.

“Jesus H. Christ, Shepard! Don’t scare me like that.”

Shepard gave her a half smile, but her face fell when their eyes met. “Are you okay?” she asked, turning to face her and placing a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Samantha hurriedly ran the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping away the residual un-fallen moisture. “Yeah… just having a hard time seeing all this, you know?”

The Spectre nodded and glanced around. “It just reminds me of just how important our job on the Normandy is.”

“When you put it that way, it’s pretty sobering to see.”

Shepard looked back to Samantha and Samantha took the Spectre in: She looked tired and her hair that she normally left down was pulled back into a low sitting pony tail. Samantha blinked and realized that Shepard was clean—not to say that she was a dirty or unkempt person, but the last time she’d seen her she’d been covered in blood as she helped escort Grunt off of the Normandy to a medical facility.

“Traynor, I didn’t mean it as a sobering thing,” Shepard started as her hand moved up Samantha’s back to the middle of her shoulder blades, causing Samantha to shiver slightly at the electrical feeling from Shepard’s touch. “It’s my motivation, so see all of this and know that I have an effect on all these people with what I do in the galaxy. But I’m glad that you can see this and feel emotional about it, even if you haven’t had any personal losses. It means you care.”

“I’m affected by it every time I read a casualty report, Shepard. But seeing faces… seeing children’s toys on a wall to remember the dead…” Samantha shook her head, trying to ignore the electrical feeling from Shepard and push back another wave of tears. “I just feel like I’ve been punched in the ovaries—that somehow I’ve failed that child. Just from a toy… I can’t even begin to understand how bad Steve must be hurting right now…. And I feel awful but stupid at the same time for feeling so badly when so many have lost so much.”

Shepard took a step forward and put her free hand on Samantha’s. “Come here,” she said, pulling her from her leaning position and into a tight hug. It caught Samantha off guard and she almost fell forward into Shepard’s arms. Shepard was firm and rooted in place, her arms tightly wrapping around Samantha’s shoulders and waist. “No one can tell you how something should make you feel. And those feelings aren’t quantifiable to anyone else’s feelings. They’re your own. Sure—Steve’s hurting. But we all are. You’re allowed to be upset by what you see here.”

Samantha timidly wrapped her arms around Shepard’s waist. They were in front of a memorial wall… other alliance passer-bys would just see the two of them and assume they were grieving comrades… not a superior officer affectionately holding a subordinate. She gripped the back of Shepard’s shirt and buried her face into the crook of Shepard’s neck, suddenly very glad that Shepard was there to hold her and that the surroundings wouldn’t out her for indulging in being held.

Samantha felt the Spectre smile against the top of her head and moved a hand to the back of her head, gently caressing her neck.

“Thank you, Shepard,” was all Samantha could think to say as the urge to cry dissipated with every second of being held by the lightly freckled red head.

“Anytime, Samantha,” Shepard whispered back as her hand started to massage the base of her neck.

Samantha had to force herself not to make a noise at Shepard’s touch. It was both soothing and sensual at the same time. She tightened her grip around Shepard. “I’m glad you’re a good hugger. It’s been a huggy kind of day.”

“That is has been,” Shepard said softy, her grip around Samantha’s waist tightening.

“Hold on,” Samantha said as she moved back slightly, keeping her hands on the back of Shepard’s shirt.  As Shepard spoke, Samantha had gotten a whiff of something that smelled like alcohol. “Have you been drinking?”

“Is it that obvious?” Shepard smiled and let her arms fall away from the hug, her right hand going up to rub the back of her neck while her left stayed resting on Samantha’s waist.

“Well no,” Samantha started. She released Shepard’s shirt, but kept her hands on her hips. “I just caught a whiff of it as you spoke.”

“Ah. Well, so long as I don’t appear as intoxicated as I probably am, then we’re good. Since I’m technically on duty and all.”

Samantha smiled. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Shepard returned the smile. “Thanks, but I’m sure it’s already out. I found James at Purgatory and he introduced me to a group of soldiers who were in serious need of a morale boost and we weren’t quiet about it. Especially after the third or fourth round,” she said as she let her hand fall from her neck.

As Shepard’s hand moved, Samantha caught a glimpse of Shepard’s palm before her hand went into her pocket. There were four half-moon marks in the middle of her palm. The marks, from the brief glance she got, looked like they were cuts. And as her hand rotated to go into her pocket, Samantha could see scrapes on her knuckles and slight bruising.

_What did she do to cause an injury like that?_ she thought before Shepard’s hand disappeared.

_Taynor…_

_Hmm?_

_Now is not the time to analyze. Keep it light. Poke fun at your intoxicated Commander._

_Maybe mention that she’s handsy when she’s drunk._

_Why would I mention that?_

_To embarrass her?_

_But then she’d stop touching me and I don’t want that._

_You dog, you._

“Liquid morale, huh?” Samantha teased a bit nervously, looking back to meet Shepard’s eyes and hoping that she hadn’t noticed that she’d been staring at her hand as it had moved.

Shepard didn’t seem to notice, but smiled down at the Communications Specialist and shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey—sharing a drink with soldiers can go a long way. It gives them a story to tell when they’re dug in deep and waiting for the next wave.”

“I didn’t realize having a drink with the first human Spectre would be—” she stopped herself and then shook her head. “Oh never mind. It’d probably blow my mind too if I wasn’t serving under you presently,” Samantha said quietly, looking down to the side.

“Probably for a completely different reason,” she said quietly with laughter in her voice.

“Yeah, you’re probably ri—” Samantha snapped her gaze back to meet Shepard’s. “Wait, what?!”

“Nothing,” Shepard laughed. She then winked, a smile dancing on her lips.

Samantha’s cheeks flushed as Shepard’s bright green eyes stayed connected with hers. _What reason does she think it would blow my mind?_

_Traynor… really?_

_What?_

_Mind blown… from amazingly hot bar bathroom sex, maybe?_

Samantha’s cheeks grew hotter. _That’s not what she meant._

_Take you home and have her way with you intoxicated sex?_

_Enough on the sex train! She definitely didn’t mean that!_

_Then why’d she wink?_

_She winks at everyone!_

_Shut it! This is not the time for this!_

_Oh please—it’s always let’s fluster Traynor time._

Samantha could feel her cheeks burning and she forced herself to break eye contact with Shepard and looked down. But that didn’t help as she then saw how close they still were to each other. Shepard’s left hand was still on her lower back, and her hands were still on Shepard’s hips, and their pelvises were barely touching.

“If you blush any more you’ll set your shirt on fire,” Shepard teased quietly, only for her to hear. She angled her head down to try and catch Samantha’s eyes.

It didn’t help the flushed feeling in her cheeks and it spread out to her ears. She was sure that she was bright red in the face now, probably even more so than when EDI made the comment about elevated heat levels earlier aboard the Normandy.

“Damnit, Shepard!” she found herself saying before she moved to hide her face on Shepard’s shoulder, closing the distance between them. She instantly regretted her action, as now she was flush against her Commanding Officer in plain view in the public and she was engulfed in the scent that she’d become so fascinated with that was Shepard’s personal perfume. It was slightly different, as there was a little hint of turian whiskey added to the aroma, but it still made her knees weak.

Shepard’s arms then moved and wrapped gently around her waist, pinning Samantha’s arms in place. Her head bent down so her head was next to Samantha’s. “You know, hiding your face from me only makes me want to continue teasing you, right?” Shepard whispered in Samantha’s ear.

“You’re insufferable,” Samantha responded quietly as she moved her hands from Shepard’s waist to grip her shirt just above the base of her ribs. “Are you always like this after a few drinks?”

Shepard chuckled softly, the vibrations in from her throat to her lips tickling Samantha’s ear. She then straightened her posture and looked at Samantha. “You could say I have less of a filter when I drink, yes.”

_What does that mean?_ Samantha thought, her cheeks still incredibly warm.

Shepard smiled and then took a step back, letting her hands fall from Samantha’s body and looked at the memorial wall. Samantha was suddenly very cold but she let her hands fall from Shepard’s shirt. _No need to be clingy,_ she thought.

“So how’s Steve?” Shepard asked.

_Right—I’m here for Steve! Not… whatever this glorious thing that’s happening between Shepard and I._

Samantha cleared her throat. “Um, he’s not great. This is really hard for him. He almost didn’t leave the ship.”

“Did you convince him to come down?” Shepard asked, glancing at her.

“More like I dragged him off of the ship after he told me you suggested he do this.”

“Ah.”

Samantha found Steve in front of the memorial wall and looked at his back. His arms were in front of him as if he was still holding onto the datapad and her cheeks started to cool down. She cursed herself to letting herself indulge in whatever it was that had just happened between her and Shepard. Why should she be enjoying herself when he was in so much pain.

“He’s not in the best emotional state,” Samantha said as she hugged herself. “But I think he knows he has to do this to be at peace with it.”

“We all grieve differently,” Shepard said softly, causing Samantha to look at her again. Shepard’s face was serious as she adjusted her shirt to sit properly on person. She nodded to herself and then said “but I know he needed the push. I’ve been worried about him since I first came across him listening to the playback in the shuttle bay before Sur’Kesh.”

“He seemed alright before everything on earth happened. He seemed to be healing. I’m not sure what pulled him back in.”

“We all have our triggers,” Shepard said morosely. “And most of the time, we don’t know what those triggers are or how they’ll affect us when they’re pulled.”

Samantha couldn’t stop herself from starring at Shepard. Her demeanor changed and it was a little intimidating to watch. The muscles in her face tightened and her gaze didn’t seem focused on any one spot.

_She’s all too familiar with that, I suppose,_ Samantha thought, thinking back to all of the times Shepard had spaced out on her previously. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure but perhaps that was what was happening with Shepard right now.

She moved forward and gently wrapped her hand around Shepard’s left. “Shepard?”

Shepard blinked, looked down at their hands, and then met Samantha’s eyes. “Hmm?”

“Maybe Steve could use a hug and some words of encouragement?” Samantha offered, her thumb caressing Shepard’s knuckles. “It would mean a lot to him.”

Shepard squeezed Samantha’s hand and smiled sadly at her. “It is a huggy kind of day after all,” Shepard quoted.

They shared a smile and then Shepard nodded to her, squeezing her hand ever so gently and then started walking forward. Samantha didn’t dare hold onto her like she had Steve. As soon as Shepard began to move she unclasped her hand. She was sure that what they’d done here was breaking all sorts of regulations. Part of her didn’t care, as this was a place of grieving and people in every direction were holding and comforting each other. But part of her felt guilty that while everyone around her was being comforted, she was relishing in just being close to Shepard.

_Gah, your priorities are all kinds of screwy,_ Samantha thought as she hugged herself.

She watched Shepard put her hand on Steve’s back. Steve seemed surprised to see his Commanding Officer but accepted her hug instantaneously. They spoke for a few moments before Steve finally moved up to the wall and put the datapad on the ledge. He stood there for a long moment before Shepard moved up and rubbed his back and they spoke for a while longer.

Their conversation came to a close a few minutes later, Samantha unable to hear any of it because of the white noise of so many people in one space. The two soldiers nodded to each other and then Shepard moved forward to the wall and dug something out of her pocket and placed it on the ledge, a few inches away from where Steve had put his datapad. Shepard clasped him on the shoulder with one hand and patted his opposite bicep, saying one final thing, and then began walking back towards Samantha.

Samantha watched her approach and felt the urge to go up to her and wrap her arms around her again. Shepard’s face was soft, serious, and something else that Samantha couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Shepard came up beside her and gently put her hand on Samantha’s forearm, the electrical current flowing directly between their skin was more intense and made Samantha take in a deep breath before meeting Shepard’s eyes.

“Make sure he takes as much time as he needs,” she said softly, leaning in closely to Samantha, close enough to smell the whiskey on her breath again.

“O-of course,” Samantha nodded.

“But make sure he gets away from the wall in a bit. Maybe go for a walk some place quiet before coming back to the ship,” Shepard said as her hand gently slid down Samantha’s forearm and stopped only when her hand reached Samantha’s and then squeezed. “It’ll be good for him.”

“He’s in good hands, Shepard. I promise.”

Shepard looked up and smiled. “I know he is.” Shepard moved her hand so that their fingers laced together for a moment before she squeezed her hand again. “I’ll see you two aboard the Normandy.”

Samantha blinked but reciprocated the squeeze. “Don’t wait up for us,” she teased halfheartedly with a wink.

Shepard smirked at her, showing a flash of teeth. She then nodded to Samantha and began walking away, her hand gradually letting go of Samantha’s.

Samantha let her hand fall away only when Shepard fully let go a few steps later and she watched the woman walk off, putting both of her hands deep into her pockets. Samantha smiled, not sure what was happening between the two of them, if anything at all or if it was just the alcohol in Shepard’s system. Whatever it was, it made her smile and made her more confident in being there for Steve. Shepard had uplifted her spirits and now she felt more prepared to help Steve through the rest of the day ashore the Citadel.

She nodded to herself and looked back to Steve who was hugging himself while still looking at the wall. She walked up to his side and wrapped her arms around him, trying to put her hands overtop his. Steve didn’t even flinch; he moved his left arm and put it around Samantha’s shoulders and grasped her right hand in his.

“How are you doing?”

“This is rough,” he said quietly. “But I’m glad I came. I needed this. And I’m glad that Shepard stopped by.”

Samantha smiled. _Me too,_ she thought and she squeezed him tighter to her. “She was worried about you.”

The two then stood in silence for several long minutes just looking at the memorial wall. Samantha didn’t let herself really see anything on the wall, for fear of her emotions coming back in a heap of tears, but rather listened to Steve’s breathing pattern and paid close attention to the rotations her thumb was making against the side of his right hand. Focusing on him was much easier than being overwhelmed by everything in front of them.

After about ten minutes of just standing, Steve took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Samantha glanced up at him, his tears long since dried.

“I’m going to go and find a restroom… then we should probably head back to the ship.”

“Why don’t you find a restroom and then we go for a walk,” she offered, remembering Shepard’s advice. “The Normandy won’t leave port for another few hours yet.”

“Sounds good,” he said, squeezing Samantha’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him. He kissed the top of her head and then let his hands drop. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she said softly as she watched him turn and start walking into the crowd.

After she lost his silhouette in the crowds she finally looked back to the memorial wall. She was instantly succumbed to the full force of the wall and suddenly wished she’d simply walked with Steve instead of staying in front of the wall by herself. It had been easy to be there when he was there to focus on. But now she was forced to look at the visual onslaught of lost loved ones.

She found her gaze falling on the datapad that Steve had placed with Robert’s face showing on the screen. She smiled sadly and then saw something next to it. She then remembered that Shepard had placed something on the wall, too. She looked from side to side, debating if she should move forward and see what Shepard had left behind. She chewed on the inside of her lip but decided that her need for a distraction was too great and she stepped towards the wall.

A few inches away from Robert’s portrait were a set a dog tags with two pictures sitting between the tags. The dog tags were for someone named Kaiden Alenko and the top picture was of a man that Samantha didn’t recognize. She used her forefinger to move the picture and top dog tag to reveal another picture underneath. She was expecting to see another picture of the man, but her breath caught in her throat at what she saw.

It was a well-worn picture of three people standing in front of a large piece of farming equipment. There was a woman and a teenage girl, both with bright red hair, and a man who had shaggy brunette hair. The parents, Samantha assumed, were on either side of the teenager. The teenager had the hair of the woman and the vibrant green eyes and freckles of the man. All three of them were smiling wide with their arms around each other.

Before she could stop herself, Samantha picked up the picture and noticed how warn the sides of the picture were. There were small tears and nicks along all the sides of the picture, and the picture itself was faded towards the bottom, as if it had been rubbed repeatedly over many years. She brought it closer to her face to get a better look at the three people. The teenage girl looked familiar with her fiery red hair and bright, vibrant green eyes. Samantha turned it over in her hands to see something hand written on the back. The ink was well warn and almost illegible. She could barely make out “Louise, Alan, and Jane Shepard, 2169, annual harvest.”

“You daft twit,” Samantha whispered to herself as it clicked, turning the picture back around to see Shepard and her family staring back at her, all smiles. “This was before the batarian’s attacked Mindoir,” she continued to say aloud to herself, recalling that the batarian slavers attacked Mindoir in 2170. Samantha bit her lip and looked at Shepard’s happy expression amongst her parents and tried to recollect her dossier, trying to recall what year she was born.

“Ready?” Steve asked from behind her.

Samantha turned around to see Steve standing there, giving her a quizzical look. “That was quick,” she said as she moved to put the picture in her pocket, trying to do it without Steve noticing. She didn’t quite know why she pocketed the picture, but there was something in the back of her head telling her to keep it.

“There was a really long line and I decided I could hold it until we got to another section of the Citadel,” Steve said simply as he looked at Samantha and not at the wall behind her.

“Well, I’m sure we can find you accommodations, sir,” Samantha joked as she moved to stand next to him, linking her arm with his.

Steve smiled and moved his arm closer to his core to hold on tighter to Samantha. “What would I do without you?” he asked, his eyes soft as he shook his head at her.

Samantha returned the smile and started walking with him towards the exit of the holding area.

* * *

“Shepard, watch out!” Liara yelled through her comms channel.

Samantha’s heart stopped when she saw a warning screen appear on her console’s vid screen.

 [[COMMANDER SHEPARD: CONNECTION LOST]]

_No no no no no! What do you mean connection lost?!_ Samantha thought wildly as she searched her screen madly to see where the connection error occurred.

“Garrus! Can you do anything to that brute? My biotics won’t touch it!” Liara yelled, somewhat out of breath.

“On it!” Garrus yelled back and then there was a distinct gun shot from his channel that caused Samantha to flinch away from her headset. “Shit, Shepard’s drawing attention of two of those bastards. We gotta move!”

“It’s a little hard with a reaper above us!”

_Above them?_ Samantha thought in a panic.

“Shepard, do you read?” Liara asked. She was quiet for a moment, just the sound of her breathing and occasional grunts of exertion were the only things that came through her feed for a minute. “SHEPARD!”

“Shit!” Garrus yelled. “We gotta move before we’re—”

[[G. VAKARIAN: CONNECTION LOST]]

[[L. T’SONI: CONNECTION LOST]]

“Shite!” Samantha cursed as the new messages popped up onto her screen. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening!”

“Traynor, what the F is going on?” Moreau’s voice sounded through a smaller vid screen and his face appeared along with his voice.

“I’m working on it,” she said quickly, only glancing down at him for a brief moment.

“Are they alive?”

“I don’t know. I’ve lost all connection with their units.”

“When will we be back up?”

“I don’t know! Shut it and let me work!”

“Right,” he said and the screen went black.

This was the worst possible scenario that Samantha could think up. If she were still connected to their comms packs, she’d have access to the life support data of their units and could tell definitively whether they were alive or not. She could deal with hard facts, in yeses and noes. But it was the areas of uncertainty that she dreaded the most. She had no idea what the status of the team was right now. They could very well all be dead or they could be perfectly fine.

She toggled into another screen and began scanning for any active and open communication channels in the vicinity of their last location before their comms cut out. The closest thing she could pin point was a half a mile away from the shroud and it was the truck that Wrex, the female krogan that everyone called Eve, and Mordin Solus were waiting in until the ground team could clear a route to the shroud.

_Shite. Shite shite shite. What the devil is going on down there?!_

She toggled into a different screen and began trying to hack her way into the ground teams’ comms systems. It was a long shot, but it was the only other thing she could think to do. It had been several years since the last time she tried to hack anything other than enemy communications—and then it had been a data cache in the R&D lab and she’d had days to get it done. Analyzing and interpreting data was what she was good at. Tapping into other active communication channels was easy enough, especially when it was individuals like Cerberus who were a few upgrades behind on their communications tech. But hacking an offline system was something she’d never attempted before.

The hacking was extremely slow going and seemingly impossible. As soon as she would make progress, something would happen and she’d loose the connection she’d barely gained. But she was determined and went immediately back into when she was booted.

“Traynor! What’s happening!?” Moreau sounded again some time later.

“I’m working on it!”

“Working on it? It’s been like fifteen minutes! I thought you were a mad genius with compu—”

“Not. Helping.” Samantha said through clenched teeth.

She tried again and again, continuing to be booted at random intervals. If there had been a pattern to it, she’d have been more successful but each time she was booted it was after a different length of time. Some would happen within seconds, others after a few minutes.

“Damnit,” she cursed. “EDI! I need help!”

“Of course, Specialist Traynor.”

Suddenly the text on the screen that Samantha had been working in began to move at an unreadable rate. She was glad that she didn’t have to waste time and explain what she was doing to EDI and she was definitely glad for the help.

After another five tense minutes of trying, EDI finally was able to connect and Samantha’s vid screen displayed:

[[L. T’SONI: ACTIVE]]

[[G. VAKARIAN: ACTIVE]]

[[COMMANDER SHEPARD: CONNECTION LOST]]

“Oh thank god!” Samantha said and then tapped a button on her ear piece. “Liara! Garrus! Can you read me?!”

“Samantha?” Liara responded, extremely out of breath.

“Yes! It’s me! We lost connection with you.” Samantha waited for a reply but didn’t get one. She toggled into a screen that was tracking their armor’s location. “I see that you’re moving away from the shroud,” Samantha said, breathing a little easier and hoping that her data was correct.

“We’re in the truck headed back to the Kodiak. I need you to have Dr. Chakwas meet us in the shuttle bay with a gurney,” Liara said quickly.

“U-understood,” Samantha stammered. “Is everyone alright?”

“We lost Mordin,” Liara said sadly but continued. “And Shepard is gravely injured. She’s unconscious and I can’t stop the bleeding. She’s losing a lot of blood.”

Samantha’s stomach dropped and it felt like all of the air in her lungs vanished. _Oh god,_ she thought desperately as her hand went to her mouth. _Oh god no. No no no._

“Can’t this truck move any faster, Wrex?!” Garrus yelled followed by a loud thud of something hitting metal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued reading of this story. Your reviews, likes, favorites, follows, and private messages have been super helpful this past year and have gotten me through some pretty rough moments in life. I appreciate you all more than you’ll ever know! I’ll be seeing you with Chapter 12 shortly after the New Year I’m hoping and I promise it isn’t going to be another year before you see it. 
> 
> Also—in an effort to stay more on top of things and be able to give my readers updates about the progress upcoming chapters, expected upload dates, and if I need any beta readers, I’ve made a Tumblr page! http://mistressnoriko.tumblr.com! Give it a follow if you’re interested in having a more active dialogue with me about this story and any future stories that I do. 
> 
> Cheers!


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